Alchema: Child of Fate
by PseudonymousEntity
Summary: A sixteen year old Harry Potter is cursed with dreams of alternate lives he might have lived, had he made choices for himself. When he is then given the chance to start his life over and give it another go, he seizes the opportunity. Very Bad Boys. Wizarding Politics. Revenge. Irresponsible use of sarcasm. HP and TMR Messing with Dumbledore. A lot. He deserves it. SLASH & non-SLASH
1. Prologue

**SUMMERY:** A sixteen year old Harry Potter is cursed with dreams of alternate lives he might have lived, had he made choices for himself. When he is then given the chance to start his life over and give it another go, he seizes the opportunity. Harry...may or may not have thought this through.

**Rating:** T (...at the moment. May go higher as Harry gets older.)

**Warnings:** Violence. Mental and emotional abuse. Emotional manipulation. Characters with flexible morals. A Harry encouraged from a young age to think independently and form his own opinions. Other magical schools. Demons and magical creature culture. Pureblood politics. Verbal Sparing.

**AN**: If you aren't interested in back story the official beginning of his 'do-over' is chap 2.

-Pseudonymous

* * *

_If we were invincible_

_If we could never die_

_Then all the world could rise against us_

_And we'd dare to fight_

* * *

**Dream June 8th**

* * *

**Why Can't we be ****Friends**

* * *

Harry stared at the boy in front of him. If anyone had told him yesterday that today he would be sitting, crossed legged, in the chamber of secrets, bantering with mini-lord-Voldemort he'd have directed them to Madam Pomfrey immediately. Yet, here he was, getting to know the teenage version of the man who tried to kill him.

"It's frightening really." He murmured finally.

Tom stopped his ranting about the ministry to stare at him.

"What is?"

Harry pointed at his head. "How many people you've got in there."

"It's maddening." Tom deadpanned.

He repressed a smirk. "I'm quite sure it is."

Tom watched him for a moment, considering something or other in his head no doubt far too complex for Harry to follow.

"Why aren't you and I...associates?"

Harry nearly laughed at Tom's blatant avoidance of the term 'friends.'

"You tried to kill me."

"That isn't so bad. All this pent up anger isn't good for the soul. You need to learn to let things go Harry."

"Twice."

"If it makes you feel any better I obviously wasn't trying that hard. Well, i suppose I had intended to when you first approached me, but in my defense I knew you only as the boy who destroyed my future self and I was understandably upset. The second time I'd run out of things to say and I had nothing better to do."

"What."

"Bored. I was bored."

"...I hate you."

* * *

**Dream June 23rd**

* * *

**Awkward**** conversations and caffeine addictions**

* * *

Hadrian opened his eyes to cold blue one not five inches from him. He jumped.

An annoyingly familiar snicker followed after.

"Tom?"

The face pulled back allowing him to see it more clearly. Yup it was Tom.

The irritating, apartment breaking into teenage dark lord raised an eyebrow.

"Just how many people do you have around here? This is my first visit- should I be jealous?"

His voice was light but Harry could see the glint in his eyes. In response he rolled his own, green ones. Standing he pushed his intruder out of his bedroom and into the living room.

"I haven't even had coffee yet. This is indecent I tell you!"

Tom snorted. "Drama queen."

A knock sounded at the apartment door. Harry scowled. So much for a stress free summer. Only two weeks into the break before fifth year and he was being accosted. Joy.

Hadrian opened the door and immediately regretted it.

His bushy haired friend entered obliviously, already rambling about something or other. Finally she caught sight of his visitor.

"Oh! Harry quickly!"

And he was being pulled along and shoved into a small space and darkness. Swell.

He sighed. It, really, was much too early for this.

"What are you doing?"

"Hiding you."

Hadrian regarded his friend skeptically.

"In the closet?"

"I retreated to think of our options and strategize our escape."

"...in the closet?"

Hermione smacked his head and attempted to shush him.

Tom decided to enter the conversation.

"Is it alright if I procure a snack from the fridge as you are...otherwise occupied? I'm getting bored. I eat when I'm bored. Nasty habit."

Hermione looked nonplussed. She turned to him.

"What is he doing here?"

"Going through my fridge."

"Yes but why?"

"He's bored. Just said so in fact. Are you not paying attention at all? Some strategist you are."

She huffed, rearranging herself into a more comfortable position. That in it's self a feat, this was a small cloak closet.

"Why is he here Hadrian?" Her voice taking on that holier-than-thou 'why are you so stupid' tone that he loathed.

"I have no idea. You decided to take a detour to Narnia before he could say."

Tom's voice filtered in, he seemed to be near the closet door now.

"I've forgotten now. But I am sure I can come up with something to talk about. You have no food in here. What are you living on? Air?"

"You don't like to cook Tom."

"Last I checked neither do you, yet here lies the refrigerator and seasoning rack."

"It came with the apartment."

"Which is also horridly mundane. Really you could have come to the estate. This is dreadful. If Barty and Lucius knew..."

"Dammit Riddle if you tell them I'll gut you myself!"

"Ooh death threats. Makes the fifth one today."

Hermione stared at Hadrian.

"What?"

"You've threatened him five times today? How long as he BEEN here?"

"Only half an hour. And no. More than likely it is five separate death threats from other people, who are now more than likely- dead."

"It is." Called Tom helpfully.

"Ah, thanks for clarifying."

"How are you taking this so easily?" She demanded, looking thoroughly exasperated with his lack of self preservation.

"How do you mean?"

"Tom Riddle. Dark Lord. Is in your kitchen."

"Is she always this slow?" Came a scathing comment.

His knees were aching, he felt claustrophobic and for the love of magic he wanted his dam,n coffee. "This is ridiculous I'm leaving the closet." He stood, thrust it open and walked out.

Tom grinned and looked him up and down suggestively. "About time too."

He felt his cheeks flush. "Jeezus Tom stop saying shit like that. This is why the Lestranges think we're...er...involved. Those rumors will never stop if you keep doing stuff like-" He trailed off.

Both boys stiffened and looked to the right. The forgotten bushy haired muggleborn stood there, mouth open.

"Oh my God. You two are friends!"

Tom leaned over and stage whispered, "I think she's on to us."

* * *

**Dream July 18th**

* * *

**Ironic Naming Skills**

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Harry glanced up from the paperwork he and Tom had been huddled over for the last hour.

"Debating last names. If Tom and I are going to enter into the tournament we're gonna be clever about it."

A delicate brow raised. "Oh? And what do you have planned?"

Tom looked up. "I am going to fashion myself a new identity and secure help from Durmstrang to ensure my status for the duration of the tournament as an additional member of their school."

"And I suppose you have a contact that can provide you with these services?"

"Nope, but we have friends that do." Harry winked, much to the blonde's displeasure.

"Why I am friends with you when all you do is use me I shall never know."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Don't pout Malfoy, you'll get wrinkles."

"Funny." Draco sniffed and crossed his fingers, though he didn't move away from them.

"Back to my original topic- which last name...or maybe a combination?" Harry asked aloud, musing.

Draco moved closer, nonchalantly gazing over the paper as if he wasn't curious. Harry new him better though. He could see it flicker across his face. During their shared detention in their first year Harry and Draco managed to mend their sorry first attempt of friendship, which was, honestly, disastrous. Since then they remained friends, although Tom always referred to him as one of Harry's 'minions'.

"Which names are you choosing from?"

Tom answered this one. "Krueger, Myers, Lector and Voorhees. I'm thinking a combo like Kryers or Vecter. There's so much potential here it's exciting."

"Why those names? They aren't pureblood are they?"

Harry rewarded him with a very Slytherin smirk then glanced at Tom.

They spoke in unison. "You either get it or you don't."

* * *

**Dream July 31st**

* * *

**My rival, My friend, Ally**

* * *

A petite boy with inky hair stooped over a bubbling cauldron in an abandoned classroom. Pale yellow light reflected on his face, showing lips pulled between white teeth absently. Emerald orbs rimmed with thick dark lashes shined with curiosity and determination. His attention flickered between the heating liquid and a set of notes on the desk beside him.

_No turning back now._

Harry Potter was going to change the world. Right now. In this moment. And then they would see.

Dumbledore with his ever twinkling eyes and subtle manipulations. Hermione, whom he hoped choked on her self-serving ideals. Ron and Draco, both of whom teased him for his girly face and his moniker (the-boy-who-live and more recently Slytherin's heir) respectively.

He was tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him. Speaking down to him in soft condescending tones, soothing his worries with pats on the head and promises of more information when he was ready. Of the small, humoring smiles when he requested passes to the restricted section or asked questions above his year. Apparently he was only the Savior of the Wizarding World when it suited them and at all other times he was a naive child who oughtn't know anything about the reality of the situation.

_Well, no more. No more being underestimated. No more being ignored. Being used._

Harry spooned a small amount of potion into a vial and grinned wickedly. If he succeeded, they'd acknowledge him then. They'd see him then. He would be famous for his own merits and no one would dare mock him. Not for his looks or his short stature or his parentage. They would see him now. The real Harry.

He turned and stepped into a circle drawn on the stone floor with ashes and salt. Harry took a calming breath, brought the vial to his lips and tipped it just enough to taste. A series of thundering, rolling booms startled him. It took a great deal of self-control not to jump out of the circle as the world around him shimmered, blurred and swirled around him. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Harry immediately toppled over. Not quite the entrance he'd imagined.

"You're here..." a low voice whispered.

Rubbing the back of his head, face flushed with embarrassment, Harry sat up. To his left, across a large wet, hall stood the key to his success.

"Riddle." he greeted, saluting cheerily. He stood and wiped the grime off his dark tunic and slacks. A grimace flickered across his face. _Yuck_.

"You're here." Riddle repeated, eyes glimmering, calculating, observing.

"Apparently."

"In my diary."

"Yes."

Tom took a single step forward and paused. "With me."

Harry grinned. "With you."

Tom Riddle shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled across the chamber. Harry began backing up, a tiny measure of alarm prodding at him in the back of his mind. Tom stopped a breath away, his left hand brushing the fringe from his forehead. Long fingers skittered across his face. Blue eyes met green and Harry felt his breath hitch, a shudder of apprehension flowing through him. He believed it was warranted, sixteen or not this was still Voldemort.

"Harry?"

"Yes. It's me Tom."

Riddle brushed fingers through Harry's hair and down his neck feeling his pulse point and back to his face.

"You managed to retrieve me from the girl."

"Yes."

The hand cupped his cheek, slid along his jaw and allowed a pale finger to trace his lips.

"Why are you here Harry?"

Harry swallowed and ordered himself to breathe.

"They..." he trailed off searching for the proper words, "they think they know me. And using the information they have supplied, they dare to choose my future for me. The dare to judge me worth, my potential. The treat me like shiny weapon one day and a naïve child the next." He paused.

Riddle waited patiently, a peculiar, possessive gleam forming in his eyes.

"But they don't know me. None of them. They don't even try." as if in answer to his raging and confusing emotions, the pools of water rippled, the lights flickered and cracks spidered along the stones. Resentment and fury rolling of him in waves. Years of frustration released from their chains of denial and self-loathing.

"I am not some, some golden child with rose-coloured glasses and hopeful dreams. I've seen the world. The real world. I lived in it. This..." He gestured around them as well as he could with Riddle standing so close, "this is a fantasy. All they're talk of equality and understanding and tolerance. They only tolerate people like them. And...and if you're different...if you're truly special...they mock you. They fear you. They try to manipulate you..."

"Why are you here?" Riddle repeated, those his gaze seemed reflective, as if he were listening to Harry with one side of his mind and making complicated calculations and reasonings in the other.

Harry didn't know if he should feel offended or awed.

He raised his vial with the remaining potion in it. "Freedom." he handed it over.

Riddle took it with his right hand and stared. "You would release me?"

""I've seen reality. I'm doing my best to change it to suit my needs. I need a new ending, the previous one was less than satisfactory. And, in any way, I've seen enough to know what I'm doing."

"What could you have seen? You're only a child."

Harry smiled bitterly. "Am I?"

Sharp eyes focused on him.

"Harry?"

Said boy tilted his head, eyes hardening. ""Why should we have to stand in the corner, suffering in silence while everyone else walks around with painted smiles on their faces, wearing mass-produced rose-coloured glasses like everything is right in the world? Like everything is okay? Fuck that. Misery is a selfish bitch and so am I."

Tom's lips twitched, unknown to Harry, he'd been ranting in Parseltongue. He ran his free hand through Harry's inky locks and pulled him into a strange embrace. A hug, Harry supposed. Though he hadn't had enough in his life to really be certain.

Tom whispered quietly, "I will show you the darkness they fear so and then I shall use it to free you from your cage of synthetic light..."

He was pushed back gently, just enough to come face to face with Riddle.

"Do you know who I am? Who I will become?"

Harry stared back, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"Yes."

His back hit the wall and cold lips crashed on to his. Green eyes widened in shock, his mind not given time to react properly. Fingers pulled his hair in a vice like grip and a tongue coated with the rest of the potion flicked into his mouth. The world blurred around them, it spun and reformed into a shadowed room with a cauldron in one corner and two dark-haired orphaned boys standing together, in a newly made fragile alliance, within a circle painted in salt and ashes.

* * *

**AN: **Next Harry wakes up and is provided an offer and a choice.

Let me know if you like what I do.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN:** _Now presenting the first chapter._

_Once again, no Beta. Please forgive mistakes. I'll correct them when I can._

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

**Updated AN:**_ Hey guys, I am going through the chaps and doing a small bit of editing when it comes to spelling and grammar. Additionally, if anyone has suggestions for 'brit-speak' as far as slang and certain words go when the point of view is Hadrian's or Lucius' or any character obviously british I would appreciate the help. _

_Thank you_

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

Somebody cries in the middle of the night  
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights  
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate  
When morning comes it'll be too late

* * *

Harry sat up, breathing heavily and half-sobbing. Each night since he returned to Privet Drive for the summer, he dreamt dreams. Dreams where he became a completely different version of himself. Where he made different choices. Different friends. Different enemies. And they were never the same. It was as if each night he disappeared into an alternate world and lived a day in that alternate Harry's life. Hundreds of worlds. Hundreds of Harrys.

He stood, ran to the window and flung it open. Panting he let out a horrible scream then collapsed against the window pane in furious tears.

It wasn't fair. He caught glimpses of lives he could have had and at the end of each night he came back here. And the most frightening part? He believed he really would do anything to be the Harry he was in his dreams. Learned. Strong. Independent. Making his own choices.

Even if he didn't agree with much of what he saw the Other Harrys doing...they all had the one thing he wanted more than anything. Choice. The ability to choose his own path and claim his own destiny. Absently he traced a finger along his lips, blue eyes flashing in his mind.

The sound of scuffling along the roof drew him from his thoughts. Something was skittering up there.

Turning back to the window he let out a very unmanly yelp, startling the owner of two golden eyes. Who promptly fell from the window and almost off the house. Harry sprang forward and grabbed a gloved hand.

"Do you make it a habit to screech at visitors?" A very sarcastic voice questioned defensively and just a bit out of breath.  
Harry tried to formulate a response.

_Gee, I'm sorry. I should have expected a stranger to be lurking in my window. I don't know what I was thinking. It is entirely my fault and not your own so please, do continue insulting me while your life dangles in my hands. Of course it isn't like I had anything else to do on a Saturday night. I don't think I'll actually tell you that. I sound pathetic. Maybe I'll tell you I am in the middle of some sort of important research and-_

"Seriously? You're going to drive off on an inner monologue and leave me, quite literally, hanging here? Unless you've got the secrets of the universe in there, PULL ME UP."

He recognised an order when he heard one. Reaching down he grasped a slender wrist with both hands and pulled. It took the other body slamming into him and then them both slamming into the floor for Harry to realize his peeping Tom was a girl. A pretty girl. Laying on top of him. In his room.

His mind proceeded to spazz the fuck out. With a squeal he pushed her from him and jumped up onto his chair. Miss Sarcastic, as he was calling her, raised a dark eyebrow.

"I'm not a mouse."

Feeling more humiliated in the last fifteen minutes than he had in his entire life, Harry jumped down and cleared his throat.

Miss Sarcastic snorted.

"Wow."

"I...don't get a lot of visitors. Or any, really."

"Is it because you scream at them?"

"Er, no."

"Are you sure? I haven't been around wizards in a minute I'll admit, but I don't think screaming has become a fad recently. Or ever."

Harry blinked. _If Snape and Luna had a child (and wasn't that just a rip-your-eyes-out kinda of image) this would be it._

"No rescuer hath the rescuer." she whispered.

"I'm sorry?"

She shook her head like she was clearing her mind.

"I have a lot to tell you in a small amount of time." She pulled a strange watch from her pocket, with many moving hands, planets and constellations on it.

"An hour and a half in fact."

"Thats...specific."

"Yes well, you'll be dead then. Time is of the essence and all that."

Harry choked.

"What do you mean I'll be dead?"

"You will cease. Your lungs will still. Your eyes will glaze. If it is possible, your skin will pale..."

Harry scowled. "_Why_ will I be dead?"

"I don't know. You do. Or did. Or will. Would have?" she trailed off thoughtfully.

Harry's mind whirled in uneven circles.

* * *

**SEVERAL MINUTES LATER**

* * *

"Let me...see if I understand this madness. You met me, or would have. I was dying," _Dying for choices I didn't make, for a world I didn't believe in and people who never really knew me,_ "because of a choice I make at nine am this morning. I regretted every moment of my life and in a fit of what you call 'the depths of despair and rage' I found myself in the graveyard. The one from...fourth year."

She, who was still unnamed, nodded.

"You came upon me there. I spilled my guts. You offered me a set of choices. You could come to me now, before I leapt off the cliff of insanity and fell into a horrible mess-"

"That part's debatable really."

"-and offer me the chance to...to hit a reset button or something. I could go back to the beginning and try this again. With or without your help and with or without my memories. I won't know until I confirm one way or the other."

"Yes."

"And I am not supposed to ask who or what you are."

She beamed. "Exactly."

"I just have to take your word for it."

"Looks that way."

"...that sounds insane."

"Coming from a kid screaming out the window like a lunatic?"

Harry grimaced,"Point."

"So. You have a choice. Are you really willing to live out the consequences to choices the world made for you? Are you willing to die for this? Is this what you really want to stand for?"

"What do you stand for?" he challenged.

"I don't know anymore. Most days anyway. At night I tend to think too much. On the bright side, it's eight am, you die in one hour and when tomorrow comes the world will have forgotten you. You've got to start looking at the bright side of things. "

"How is that the bright side?"

"Because it's in one hour and not one minute. You are so glass half empty."

Harry blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Hardly ever. But in this case yes. So flip a coin or something."

_"I will show you the darkness they fear so and then I shall use it to free you from your cage of synthetic light..."_

His life already wasn't his, and if this really was a restart then he could always choose to let things happen as they would have. Or did. Or could have.

He paused.

_No. No I won't let it just happen like it has. Obviously that isn't working out. What is the point of living a life where other people choose my path for me? None of them care as long as I am ready to do the 'heroic' thing. As long as I smile and nod and make friends with right people. Say the right things. As long as I look the part. That's what matters to them. _

He brought his fingers to his cheek, ran them along his jaw and touched his lips. A phantom shiver went through him. He could almost taste-

She flicked his forehead, "Forty-five minutes kid."

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his hands against his face.

"Fine. Fine, I'll do it."

The next few minutes became a revolving door of terror and confusion. The girl took out a wicked looking knife, sliced both their hands, pressed them together and collected the mixed blood into a vial. A silvery fountain pen made an appearance, was dipped into the vial of blood and handed to Harry. He took it, slightly dazed and a little concerned the mysterious stranger may have taken too much blood.

A contract was unrolled before him. "Sign."

His eyes ran over it attempting read the tiny writing.

"Just sign. No questions until after the signing."

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" He scrawled his name down at the bottom.

The writing on the scroll glowed then faded away leaving a blank parchment with only the headline _'Lucifer ut liciatorium texentium'_.

"And it is done." she whispered.

Her hand reached into yet another pocket and retrieved yet another parchment. This one folded many times and quite old-looking. She walked to Harry's desk and carefully opened it.

"The List."  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Did you say that with capitals?"

"I did."

"Ah."

"You and I wrote this just before I came back. It has knowledge and hints for us to use."

"Us?"

"Yes, well, I owe you."

"No kidding."

"Yeah, you have a thing where you save my life the first time we meet, every time. And, well, the first time we met I made a deal with you. If you...procured a valuable lets call it an_ Amulet_ for me I would in return do you a favor. Of course I have no idea what I was getting into." She scowled at him.

"Anyway," she continued, "I am going to transfigure this into a journal with blank pages. When we need information or help we say aloud what we need and then open it randomly. There should be any information we are permitted to have at that time about that topic. You won't have your memories of the last however many years, and I won't remember how we met or the last three. That's actually super important, though I'm not allowed to tell you why."

She looked around suspiciously then leaned in to him.

"Strictly speaking I shouldn't be doing this. I foresee all kinds of trouble coming about because of this." she licked her lips.

"I can't wait."

"Do this often do you?"

"Give people favors, threaten minors or rescue people from death?"

"All three."

"The first, rarely. The second, all the time. Third? This is the second time ever. He deserves it anyway."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it." She clapped twice and the parchment stretched and molded into a book.

"Ten minutes. Ready?"

"Does it matter?"

"Nope."

Harry sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. This is it. He made his first official choice based on what was good for him. Not the rest of the world. Not based on what his friends would think. A choice for himself.

"..."

"You won't be alone you know. I'll be there, as well as my associates. I'll have people looking out for you. We can do this. Together."

Green eyes drifted up and found golden ones.

"Together?"

"You and I." she agreed.

He swallowed and looked away. A torrent of emotion he wasn't ready to deal with floundering in the background.

"How will I know your friends?"

"They will remind you of someone you might have once known. Or perhaps you'll feel at ease around them the moment you meet."

"I see."

They sat in silence.

"One minute."

He stood and took calming breaths.

"Harry-" she stopped and bit her lip.

"Yes?"

"Live for you. Okay? Do this for you. Learn everything you can. Make your own choices based on your own knowledge. Live your own life. Don't waste this...You- you have so much potential and you are the only one who can't see it. I am laying the world at your feet. Tread lightly."

A golden light flashed and then there was nothing.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Don't worry guys, Tom will be back later on. **

_I have no Beta, therefore any and all mistakes are mine. My bad. _

_Thank you for your consideration. Enjoy the show._

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

Forget everything you thought you knew.

* * *

_You got your rules and your religion_

_All designed to keep you safe_

_But when rules start getting broken_

_You start questionin' your faith_

* * *

A boy sat in the darkness, rocking slowly. A tiny hand pressed against his side, the other shook slightly in his lap. He stared at the closed door to his prison with dull eyes. Black hair fell in messy waves that stuck to the sweat on his skin. His breathing became more labored and he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths.

Five days. No contact with the world outside his cage, for five days.

_Thump_

His heart beat wildly against his chest, dull eyes widened and skinny legs pulled up against his chest.

_I'm not here. I don't exist. I'm nothing. There's nothing in here._

A faucet turned on and off. Foot steps faded. He let out a ragged breath and a whispery sob.

Three days later his fist were beating against the door, his feet kicked it, shouts ripping from his chest.

"let me out. Please. I'll be good. I'll_ be good_. Just let me out. Please!"

The boy collapsed against the door and slid down it to his knees.

"Somebody...anybody..."

His throat choked on un-even breaths and he dug nails into the palms of his hands.

_"Please._"

A sharp metallic click made him jump.

The door to his personal hell swung open slowly, hinges squealing.

He swallowed.

"Hello?"

Silence answered. Gathering his strength the boy pushed off from the floor, stood shakily and walked out the door carefully. It swung shut and locked behind him.

He had to bite on his fist to keep a scream in.

When several minutes passed and no thumps sounded on the stairs he removed his hand and looked around. It looked like it was still really early. The sun wasn't up. The boy glanced at his home out of the corner of his eye. Gears whirled in his head and he weighed his options.

20 minutes later the door to number 4 Privet Drive opened and shut. If anyone had been awake and looking, they might have seen a dark hair child walking quickly down the sidewalk. He wore an old backpack much to big for him. Inside were bottles of water, a pocket knife, a blanket from the couch and all the cash stuffed into the angel jewelery box on the mantel.

Light from the street lamps flickered over him every few steps, momentarily breaking the shadows of four in the morning. He had a destination in mind and walked determinedly. Two blocks later and a small park with a playground came into view.

"Hey."

His steps faltered but his eyes kept looking straight ahead. Even he knew better than to talk to strangers in the dark.

"I'm talking to you boy."

He winced at the term.

"Ain't you a lil' young to be out this late? I said I'm talking to ya."

Sharp fingers dug into his shoulder spinning him around. A man around his uncles age swayed in front of him, obviously walking home from a pub. The man licked cracked lips, watery grey eyes skimming the boy's face.

"Hey ain't you a pretty one. You ain't a girl are ya?"

Just barely keeping himself from scowling, he shook his head _no_.

The man raised a hand and cupped his cheek. "What are you doing by yourself lovely? Don't you know what they do to boys with faces like yours?"

The hand on his shoulder drug him closer. He cringed away, his sense of self-preservation kicking in. He needed to get away, now.

The hand gripping him tightened and yanked him against the mans chest.

"Now don't be like that lovely."

He started to panic. His eyes squeezed shut and, summoning his courage, he let out a yell. On the inside he prayed to every deity he'd ever heard of that somebody would hear him.

And someone did.

Gnarled hands jerked back from him and the bad man went flying. He picked himself up cursing. A figure stepped in front of the boy, blocking him from view.

"What do you want bitch? Come to join the party have you? Well you ain't my type."

Apparently this girl wasn't the talkative kind. Rather than answering in kind she slammed a gloved fist into the mans face once, twice and spun, kicking him in the stomach. Several minutes passed. The man would get knocked down, try to get up and fight back, and she would add another bruise to his face. Another broken rib. Cracks and squishes and thuds. Drunken Lunatic stood once more, staggering.

"What's it to you anyway? No one will miss that kid. He ain't worth the trouble." He growled, spitting on the ground.

The boy watched the girl in front of him, mesmerized and more than a little frightened. She had to be in her late teens, with dark chin length hair and a very strange jacket on that skimmed along the ground and swirled around her as she moved. There was something familiar about her, though the boy couldn't decide what it was. Had he passed her on the street before?

The girl cocked her head, reach out her hand and closed her fist in the air. Drunken idiot choked and clutched at his throat, eyes wide. With her other hand the girl (Woman? Lady?) made a 'come hither' motion and the man's arms and feet snapped together and his body drug its self forward, shoes digging into the dirt. Five feet away she snapped her fingers. His knees bent and he fell to the ground. Like he was bowing at her feet. The boy stared in a mixture of morbid fascination and awe. Okay, he would have remembered someone who could do that.

She swiped a hand up and the man jerked his head to look at her face. His face was pale, eyes bloodshot, terror playing in them vividly.

"...and God saw that the wickedness of Man was great..." she recited.

Her arms dropped to her sides.

"Please. Please God help me." the man gasped out, hands flying to throat as his apparent strings were cut.

Her lips twitched. "How quickly they beg for divine interference when their cards are low."

Bending low she whispered into the mans ear. Judging from the expression on his face the boy was certain she wasn't saying anything nice. A moment later the man got to his feet and took off down the street. He never looked back.

"Can you _see_ me child?"

He jumped. Honestly he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. In the inky black of early it was easy to let the world around you fade away.

"I- I beg your pardon miss? Or ma'am? Well you look like a miss. Or are you a Lady? You have nice clothes like a Lady..." He rambled.

She kneeled in front of him. "That answers that question." she said dryly.

He watched her warily. After all she had just pulled Jedi Mind Tricks out of no where and beat down a man much larger than her. The boy felt that a little caution was in order.

"Why are you here?"

A shiver ran down his spine and an other worldly echo flickered in and out of his mind. _"Why are you here Harry?" _

"I had to get out of there. I couldn't stay there, with them. I _hate_ them."

She cocked an eyebrow and he imagined the eyes behind her sunglasses glittering with curiosity. The boy flinched violently when she flung out a hand and pulled his collar down. Slender fingers pressed against the bruises he knew she saw. Strange electricity jolted him, tearing his breath from his lungs. He swayed on his feet.

Her hand drew back slightly and her mouth opened and closed. Peeling her glove off she reach out with her bare hand and lightly touched his cheek. Embarrassingly a gasp escaped him and his knees buckled. She caught him and sat on the ground with him.

"Can you feel that? Do you know what that is?" her fingers roamed his face.

Feeling rather light-headed he managed to shake his head_ no._

"Power" she breathed. A satisfied smile drew across her face. She pulled him against her and held him in her lap. He wasn't sue how long they sat there. The electricity, or power, thrummed through his veins. It felt wonderful.

* * *

"What do they call you little one?"

Trying to blink away the haziness he thought about it. Then he said, "Boy...but the teacher says my name is Hadrian."

"Hadrian?"

"Yes. The kids at school call me Harry."

She bent her neck and peered at him.

"You're in school?"

"First grade."

She clucked her teeth.

"You are very small."

He giggled for no clear reason. Then he did it again.

The girl snorted and pushed him to his feet before rising herself. "I think that's enough for now."

He nodded, grinning foolishly.

* * *

"Who touched you?"

Reality snapped back into place. He swallowed and looked at the ground. hair falling over his eyes.

Fingers on his chin forced him to look up.

"No. Never bow to them. Don't let it get to you. You stand with your back straight and your face blank and you give them nothing. Never forget. Never forgive. You are better than them Hadrian." Her voiced turned steely and passionate. "You are special. You are like me. We are the sun in the sky and they are worms baking on the pavement. Hold that pain inside. Memorize it. Memorize every moment of it. Then use that pain to make you stronger."

"Why_ should we have to stand in the corner, suffering in silence while everyone else walks around with painted smiles on their faces, wearing mass-produced rose-coloured glasses like everything is right in the world? Like everything is okay?" _

"Stronger."

"Yes."

Abruptly she reach up and took a necklace off, moving forward she put it around his neck. He looked down at the circle hanging from it. It was about the size of his fist and had some sort of sign on it. A triangle made of tiny symbols. Inside it was an apple with a snake or dragon twined around it in a figure eight.

"Go home."

"Wait!" He called out frantically. He couldn't go back. He couldn't be alone in the dark.

She stopped and turned to look back at him.

"Don't leave me." he whispered, barely audible.

Someone how she must have heard him because she walked back to him quickly and knelt beside him. "It is okay Hadrian."

"When will I see you again?" he blurted.

She thought for a minute.

"At the end of each day. When darkness falls."

"You won't forget me? I can't...I can't go back to being alone." his voice cracked.

"No. You will never be alone."

She lifted the amulet around his neck and ran her thumb over it.

"If you are in need summon me. With this. I shall come for you."

He looked up at her trying to get a grip on his emotions. "Always?"

"Always."

"My Lady..." he began then cut himself off and bit his lip.

She waited quirking a brow.

"My Lady, what do I call you?"

For the first time she smiled. A real smile. Hadrian thought it made her very pretty.

"You may call me Lady."

"Lady."


	4. Chapter 3

**AN:**_ I have gotten questions about Lady. All I will tell you is to pay attention. You'll see what I mean later on in the story._

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

_You tried to make me think_

_That the blame was all on me_

_With the pain you put me through_

_And now I know that it's not me it's you_

* * *

Hadrian's head jerked to the left. He kept his face blank, eyes hard, just as Lady taught him. Turning he offered his other cheek to his uncle defiantly. This resulted in a hard punch, knocking him back against the sink. The dishes rattled and clanked. Soap sloshed out. He fell to one knee, hands in tight fists, teeth clenched, turning the pain into controlled rage.

Just as Lady taught him.

Green eyes look up through black fringe and watched his uncle, impassively, who appeared un-nerved and walked away, leaving his nephew on the kitchen floor. Hadrian nodded once to himself and stood. Using the soapy water in the sink he wiped the blood from his face, rinsed it out the dirty dish rag and finished washing his relatives dishes. From the dinner he wasn't invited to. The dinner he was never invited to.

There was a time, once, in his life Hadrian thought someone would rescue him. Someone would remember him and come looking. His younger self would stay up late at night, staring in the darkness under the stairs and imagine what his unnamed rescuer would be like. What they would do to his relatives in outrage at his treatment. And then, of course, they would take him far away and he would pretend the years with his relatives never happened. He was perhaps far too hopeful and idealistic for his own good.

No such person ever came.

Masked heroes in crimson capes didn't exist in real life. No one cared if you were tired. No one cared if you were hurting. Because no one cared to look. And if they did, if they did see. Bruises or tears or flickers of fears. What did it matter? They had their own lives and their own worries. Too much of their own hurt to bother trying to shoulder someone elses. Even if that someone else was child. Even if they lived down the street or perhaps next door. Even if they saw it again each day. No one was going to save you.

You had to save yourself.

When his cousin pushed him around, teased him, insulted his parents or chased him down the street with his group of thugs. When his uncle yelled in his face, knocked him to the ground or threw him in his cupboard. When aunt belittled him and his mother or made certain he saw how much better Dudley was treated them himself. Made certain he saw just how unwanted he was. He stood up straight, or held himself up as straight as he could as the case often was, taking whatever came at him. He cataloged the event, gathered the pain and locked it up in a box. Lady told him it would make him stronger, if he remembered what they did. If he remembered the pain. If remembered what he survived.

So he did.

* * *

She was waiting for him when he got there, his mentor and only friend, looking as out-of-place as one could in the muggle park. The last remnants of sunlight faded in the distance and sounds of the upper middle class neighborhood fadded with it..

Muggles.

The first time Lady used that term Hadrian asked what it meant, she called them, with an odd, amused smile, 'Convenient ever-present human shields'. He still hadn't decided whether she was kidding. In fact he never really knew when she was joking, even if she snickered afterward. Lady was the sort of person who always seemed to mean a least a little of what she said. Even if it was something as unimportant as a conversation arguing the superiority of purple versus blue which seemed to be more popular. Apparently it hadn't always been that way. He couldn't tell anyone most of the conversation, however, as he hadn't understood most of it himself. That was another about Lady, she often made him feel stupid.

The old, cracked swing creaked ominously and partially rusted chains rippled as it swung slightly in the wind. Hadrian took a seat, bravely in his mind, and kicked his feet.

"What are we learning today?" He asked, after a long while of silence.

A thin glass bottle came into his line of sight. Hadrian glared at the peach liquid inside for he hated the colour and everything else there was to hate about it. But he still took it and drank it. Hadrian shuddered and made a face.

"I know say this _every time_...but that tastes horrible."

Lady took it back and bopped him over the head. "Deal with it."

Hadrian wasn't sure what, exactly, was in the strange concoction but after he took it his bruises always faded and the aches always dulled. After experiencing having it forced down his throat he became more obliging toward the whole ordeal.

It _did_ taste horrible. Sugar did nothing to change that.

He tried.

"You asked me to give you the necessary tools to defend yourself in my absence. I shall do so. Listen. There is no defense without an offense. You need to get rid of any notions you may have of peaceful comprises. Not to say such events won't occur, when I finished with you you ought to be able to make them happen in most instances readily. Preparing for the moments when carefully chosen words and body language fail you is useful and necessary."

Lady paced in front of the swing set, slowly, long legs striding, small hands swinging.

"There will be times where ending a conflict quickly and without physical confrontation _will not be_ an option. In those instances you must be ready to do one of three things. Fight back. Flee. Perish. _Adapt, Migrate or Die._ These are your choices. If you attempt to flee, are unsuccessful, and then refuse to fight back you are making the choice to die. You are sentencing yourself to death. Will it be a quick death? A long, painful one..." Lady shrugged, "but die you _shall_. The sort of people who endanger those like you and I will not hold back in light of your age. They. Do. Not. Care. Repeat that in your mind each night before you sleep. Write it on the back of your hand. Remember it. Expect it."

Hadrian swallowed. If he hadn't been rather terrified by her speech he might have suggested teaching to her as an alternate occupation. As it was his fingers clenched around the chains of his swing painfully and his heart thudded against his chest.

"Your instruction begins now."


	5. Chapter 4

**AN**: _Thank you for your patience. The next chapter will be posted fairly quick, if I have my way about it._

_Thank you for your consideration._

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

_I don't wanna feel like this tomorrow_  
_I don't wanna live like this today_  
_Make me feel better_  
_I wanna feel better_  
_Stay with me here now_  
_And never surrender_

* * *

Hadrian learned quickly that he couldn't ask for a better teacher. This was of course going off his limited knowledge of how teacher should behave and she certainly did not act like any teacher he had ever encountered in his school experience. Ignoring that, he did believe she was fantastic as an instructor. She made certain he understood everything she said and encouraged him to form his own opinion on the topic, whatever it might be.

Lady went out of her way to give information from an objective point of view, rarely giving her own opinion.

"I am teaching you how to survive, not how to think. If a man won't think for himself he deserves to be used. I don't want you to think as I do and act as I do. I want you to figure out what _you _think. I want you to take the information and make your _own_ opinions, your _own_ choices." She said when asked.

He was taught to feel his power and recognize it around him. To keep control of his emotions and look at situations logically. He learned to walk silently and blend in to the crowd around him. She had them meditate at the beginning of each of their sessions (after the nasty drink unfortunately) and worked with him to control his powers. According to Lady having a powerful weapon at your disposal was useless if you hadn't mastered it. And then, she said, it is best not to advertise your expertise.

"You should always strive to remain unnoticed or et least appear nonthreatening, especially when you are not certain of your ability to win a confrontation in the environment you find yourself in.. However, having good control of your powers, especially at a young age, is an excellent advantage. They'll under-estimate you. Make them pay for it."

Eventually they moved on to the physical aspects of his training. Together they would run across the roofs of homes and apartments and office buildings and watch the mundane world carry on below. Although he didn't know for sure what it actually was Lady did for a living, for she certainly earned a good income to supply the fine clothes and weapons she had readily available by excelling in some sort of occupation, he had long ago come to the conclusion it wasn't anything...legal. She often had mysterious packages to pick up or deliver and if it wasn't a crime, whatever she was doing, she wouldn't need to do it in the middle of the night with men who carried large guns. In his profession opinion at least.

Last night was one of the greatest moments of his life. Lady let him deliver a package on his own. Of course he wasn't really alone, he knew Lady was following in the shadows, but it was a honor still. He believed he did well. He delivered it quickly after confirming the identity of the recipient. When they remarked on his age and muttered (because adults seem to believe children can't hear them speaking to one another even if they're no more then six feet away) agreements to seize the lot and withhold payment, he cut them down coldly and reminded them that his 'boss' was a busy woman and would be most displeased should they prevent him from continuing his duties properly. They paled and backed away from him and he was allowed to leave. Though pleasing to be intimidating at eight years of age it gave him pause, what exactly did those men believe Lady would do to them? And, more importantly, would she?

His reward for his hard work? A shiny new pistol and invitation to work for her more directly. She would teach him to shoot, something she assured him everyone ought to know, negotiate and intimidate and, if he fared well, he would get to meet some of her other associates. This was exciting though he was disappointed when Lady wouldn't teach him how she seemed to appear out of thin air, a feat she often perform after setting him to a difficult task to 'test his reflexes'. Hadrian was pretty sure she did it out of amusement. Sadistic woman.

She would only put a finger to her lips and say "That would be telling."

_Of course it would be telling. The was the point. _

He felt like he was missing something in that conversation.

Apart from training they took some time for more normal conversations. How his day went at school or where Lady was when she wasn't with him. He learned a bit of the various places she had lived and of the place she once called home on a more permanent basis. The Viridian she called it. He couldn't help but wonder if half the things she told him about it were made up. Then again Lady never lied. And then again twice, this was a girl who controlled people with her mind and was teaching him to do so as well. At this point anything could be possible.

* * *

"What did you say?"

Hadrian stood by the kitchen table, his aunt's fake nails attached to his arm and sinking into the skin beneath his shirt kept him from moving away. Wishing to avoid physical punishment, though he should perhaps have thought of that before letting his mouth run away him, he stood there obediently. Too late, too late.

She sat before him, face twisted, nostrils flaring. "Answer me."

"Obviously you heard me Aunt Petunia. I could say it in another way if you would find it easier to understand. Forgive me, I don't see how the words 'this is wrong, I deserve more and one day everyone else will see it as well. One day the world will catch your lies and I will be there to see it.' could possibly confuse you. Let me try again-"

The nails dug in harshly and he winced.

"After all that we do, after all that we've done, you dare disrespect us. We didn't have to keep you boy. We could have thrown you out on the street or taken you to the orphanage. You are very lucky we have kind hearts and patience where others would not."

"I doubt very much my mother would approve of your 'kindness'."

Aunt Petunia narrowed her eyes and yanked him closer. He could smell the cheap cigarettes on her breath.

"No. She wouldn't. But she's dead, isn't she? You can blame your father for that. If she wasn't mixed up with him and those people I would still have my sister. Instead she chose to throw her lot in with them and look where that got her? Killed. Worthless he was. As are you. You were born nothing and you'll die nothing. Oh you can hide behind those pretty eyes and charm them women in the shops into giving you sweets -don't think I don't see- but all the lovely smiles in the world won't change the truth. A boy so worthless his own parents didn't care enough to keep him safe. Didn't care enough to make provision for him if they should perish. No, no they faded into the night without a by-your-leave and the world thrust your scrawny, ungrateful self upon us."

She stood and leaned down even closer to look him in the eyes.

"You are nothing and no one. Freaks are not people. Freaks do not matter. How is that for telling the truth." She wrenched her hand away, shoved him into a seat and walked down the hallway.

Hadrian sat there, staring down at the table top, hair covering his face. His shoulder shook with tears he refused to shed. Self loathing boiled and bubbled in his chest.

He knew, logically, that he was indeed a human and not a freak. But for a moment, just a moment, he found himself believing her. For a moment he let her get to him. And he hated himself for it.

* * *

"Hurry up boy!"

Hadrian skidded out the door and heard slam behind him. Oops.

"Is it locked?" Uncle Vernon barked.

He nodded and sighed inwardly. He'd have rolled his eyes but he was doing his best please his uncle today.

Ugh. Horrible image.

"Get in, get in."

Squashed in the backseat beside his cousin and two other boys, Hadrian pondered his luck.

Today was his cousin Dudley's birthday and, usually, he was sent away while the 'real' family celebrated. On this particular day however he was allowed to come along. He knew it was only because they couldn't find another option, but he counted it as good fortune none the less. He'd never been to the Zoo before after all and he looked forward to it.

After they arrived Hadrian did his very best to blend in to the crowd far behind the Dursleys. This served him well and soon they seemed to have forgotten him. He kept them in sight though, it wouldn't do for them to leave him here. He weaved through the crowds observing the families visiting the zoo as much as the animals contained in it.

A few hours later found him in the reptile sanctuary. Dudley and his friends were pounding the glass of a snake enclosure, demanding that it do something to entertain them. When his father couldn't succeed where he failed Dudley gave it up and the lot of them moved to the next enclosure.

Hadrian walked up and glanced in the glass. There lay coiled a great snake with reddish markings along its tail and more brownish ones along the rest of its body. Looking at the sign beside the enclosure he saw that it was a Red-tailed Boa. He looked back at it, then, feeling extremely silly he said, "Sorry about them. Haven't got the best of manners have they?"

He very nearly choked on his ice pop when the snake winked at him. Hadrian scowled at himself inwardly. He could just imagine the things Lady would say if he died in such a way. Hang on, winking snakes?

"You almost killed me." he accused, "how traumatizing would that have been? For everyone else I mean. You see quite a lot of dead things I'd imagine."

The snake shuddered oddly as though shaking in laughter. Did snakes laugh? He really didn't know but he supposed they must.

Several minutes of serpentine conversation later Hadrian was knocked aside when his fat cousin and his friends descended upon the snake, which had now risen up to look through the glass while they were speaking. Hadrian glared at his cousin.

Who knew how much trouble could come from glaring?

Glass went missing. The snake escaped. Children screamed. His cousin and his friends were trapped in the snake enclosure. One of them sold him out and his uncle was furious.

Brilliant.

Up until now the medallion Lady gave him several years back had served its purpose well. While he still received smacks to the head and occasional punches from his uncle, they never beat him as badly as they once did and he was never enclosed in his cupboard for days on end or starved.0 This, paired with Lady's healing potions, had made life at the Dursley's much more live-able.

A dreadful, squirming feeling in the pit of his stomach had him shaking in the backseat.

* * *

Four days of darkness later and Hadrian was considering calling for Lady. He hadn't, at first, because he was ashamed. He really did know better than to bring attention to himself and talking to a giant snake in the middle of a Zoo certainly did not fall under that category. And he was certain losing control of his powers and setting a great serpent loose would be frowned upon, even by Lady.

If he was let out soon maybe he could pretend he'd been sick. She'd buy that right? Maybe?

A sharp smack sounded against his door.

Hadrian sat up right and watched it open warily. Being visited in his cupboard never ended well. It was his uncle, red face and furious. Hadrian was surprised. He'd figured they would be getting over it by now. Of course he hadn'y counted on being locked in a cupboard either. Perhaps he should stop assuming things altogether.

"Come here boy."

Hadrian didn't know why his uncle bothered telling him to come out when he reached in and thrust him out without waiting for him to do it himself. He turned and scowled at his uncle in the darkness. The man smelled of whiskey and cigars. Glancing down at his watch it read three in the morning. Had his uncle been gone all night? Aunt Petunia would have a fit at breakfast, he could hear the screeching now.

His thoughts were cut off when uncle unceremoniously picked him up and slammed him to the floor. He heard rather than felt his spine crack against the floor of the hallway and he swallowed a whimper. Crying out would only encourage him. And he hated showing weakness. If he pretended it didn't matter to him his uncle would soon grow bored and Hadrian would get to go back to bed. That had been the plan anyway.

"Get up." His uncle commanded.

Hadrian did so and was slammed down once more for his efforts.

"Again."

He stood.

Two large hands closed around his neck and pushed him back against the door of his cupboard. Uncle Vernon leaned in to speak in his ear.

"You think you're so much better than us. I can see it. In your eyes. You look just like_ them._ They thought they were better than us too didn't they? Well where are they now I ask you?"

Hadrian couldn't have replied if he wanted to. It was all he could to do concentrate on getting air into his lungs.

"You need to _remember your place_."

Hadrian glared darkly through his shuttering breaths. His uncle could go to hell and if the horrible smile forming on his fat, sweaty face was anything to go by.

Vernon licked along Hadrian's jaw. One of the hands unwrapped from his neck and returned as a fist. Hadrian felt his head swim with each fist his uncle beat against it. Blood dripped down his face, his chin, his neck and coated his amulet which had fallen out of his shirt at some point. Neither of them noticed when it started to glow.

They were both a bit preoccupied.

A hand ripped open Hadrian's shirt and rubbed up and down it slowly, tracing the contours. Hadrian swallowed and tried not to vomit. This was not happening. It couldn't be. If he made it through this in one piece was going to scar his face up or learn to hit people. Either one would do.

"You are nothing. Nothing!"

His uncle's whale of a body pinned him against the door and Hadrian's heart thumped terribly against in his chest, a slick, cold feeling filling it. Finally he snapped out of his shock. Hadrian struggled, kicking out with his feet and pushing back against his uncle's chest with his hands. He didn't budge.

He was trapped.

A large watery mouth stained with alcohol closed around his. Uncle Vernon moaned and grinned against Hadrian who was feeling very sick. When a tongue shoved its self into his mouth he reacted on instinct. He bit down.

His uncle roared, a large fist reared back and thrust forward. Hadrian closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself.

The hit never came. He opened his eyes cautiously and saw a gloved hand coiled around his uncle's wrist. Following up the black sleeve attached to it he made out dark chin-length hair and glinting sun glasses in the shadows.

Lady, looking pale, dark and frightening, stepped closer to Uncle Vernon.

She spoke in a slow, low voice Hadrian had never heard her use before.

"Very. Bad. Idea."


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: Here is the next chapter for you. This one is longer than I usually post, tell me if you would like future chapters to be longer or if you prefer the shorter ones. You will start recognizing some of the people who show up from now on. Keep a look out! **

**Additionally, I am unsure whether I should label this as AU. While there are characters and places I have made up, I do also touch on events that happen in cannon and try to hit them around the right time, even if what happens between is totally different. So, yes, unsure. **

**I may just forget about it entirely and let you lot decide for yourselves. I'm a boss like that. Or just lazy. There's that.**

* * *

_Enjoy the show. Don't forget to let me know if you like what I'm doing _**:)**

**_-PSEUDONYMOUS_**

* * *

_Look at what we've all become  
Gods among the weaker ones  
We live where men don't dare to go  
Higher than they'll ever know_

* * *

**A:COF Chapter Five**

* * *

Her grip tightened and Hadrian could see his uncle wince. She pulled down harshly until a large hand released Hadrian and his uncle knelt before her, eyes wide.

"You. You're one of them." he roared, eyes full of hatred and disgust.

Hadrian glanced at her. _One of what?_

"No. Unfortunately for you, I am _not_."

She released his uncle and stared down at his form as if she were a scientist analyzing a virus. Or a bug.

"Pathetic. It's pathetic. You. Them. All of it." she hissed.

A boot pulled his chin up, forcing his uncle to look at her.

"All your life you've been pushed around by those better than you. Those smart, more intelligent, better witted. Instead of pushing yourself to meet them, you belittle those you have power over. You yell. You insult. You demean. Relishing in the looks on their faces. Thriving on the sense of control it gave you. The imagined validation you pulled from it. I can understand that. But you made a mistake. That boy there? He's mine. He is beautiful, yes. He is clever, he is brave. You see in him the man he will become. You see everything you have never been. Everything you are incapable of being. And you can't_ stand_ that," She tilted her head to the staircase, "Any of you."

Hadrian turned and saw his Aunt in her night-dress frozen on the bottom steps.

"And then you had to touch him. Had to get some of it for yourself. Had to taint it because you can't bear to look at it. At how utterly above you he is. But he is mine and I don't like it when other people touch my things. It seems you need to_ remember your place_."

Hadrian couldn't tell if he was pleased or frightened by her possessiveness. He could decide later.

His uncle was staring blankly, tears falling down his fat cheeks. Lady lowered her boot to his chest and knocked him over with it. Stepping forward to his fallen frame she placed her boot against the side of his face, pushing it into the thin carpeting of the hallway. She rested her arms across her knee.

"Beneath my feet."

Aunt Petunia fell to the floor sobbing.

Lady turned to her.

"I don't have time for you tonight. Pity."

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

They were out running down the street, hiding in the shadows between street lights. Sirens echoed in the early morning, people screamed, crowed of them marching up and down the main streets. Searching for the 'freaks'.

Shortly after they left Privet Drive his Aunt had gained enough of her composure to call reinforcements, weaving a tale of her unwell nephew and his dangerous friend who broke into their house, assaulted Uncle Vernon and threatened Petunia herself. Now, as Lady liked to say, the hounds were sniffing after them. There was more to it of course, things Lady wasn't telling him. He could tell. The question was if he really wanted to know.

They took a side tour at an all night grocery. In the bathroom Lady changed his appearance. Not much, but enough. They had always looked something alike, with their dark hair and petite stature. With his hair straightened and chin length, eyes larger and his skin a pale olive- they could be siblings.

"Say it again. You need to have it right."

"I am Soboles Deorum. You are my cousin, Arcana Deorum. We travel together, have private tutors and live in a large estate left to you by your parents. You received guardianship of me when you turned seventeen, two months ago, after your parents died. They adopted me when my father died six years ago. My mother died in childbirth. I don't speak unless spoken to, or it is an emergency. I speak softly, slowly and say little when I do speak. I let you handle business with the adults. I don't bring attention to myself." He recited, rather breathless. That was a lot to say.

"Good. Keep that book with you. It has the map."

"Map to where?"

She never got to answer the question. The grocers filled with violent shouting. He heard gun shots at one point. And then it went quite. Lady shoved him backward into the stall, and with a warning to be quite and follow the map, she left.

He heard them speaking. Something about Aurors and Muggles and a place whose name he didn't understand. Lady's absence from said place was distressing to the ones calling themselves Aurors. Hadrian peaked around the corner. Men in robes were arresting her. He pulled back into the bathroom and waited for them to leave.

Half an hour later he remembered the book.

Opening it hastily he saw Lady's writing looping across the first page.

* * *

_Soboles,_

_Don't fret my little one. I will have this taken care of quickly. You and I will have a lot to talk about when I return, yeah? Hold your medallion and say 'Pretiosum'. Try not to act to surprised at what happens after. It is important that everyone else believe you, so do your best. The first one to speak, say this to them and only them._

"My cousin, Arcana of the Deorum, clan of d'Arc, seeks asylum for her cousin, myself, Soboles of the Deorum for an unknown amount of time. Direct and safe passage to The Viridian is requested. Immediately. Compensation will be provided as well as one favor to be collected at a later date."

_This is an old acquaintance of mine, listen to him._

_Remember, no one must know this is all a rouse. From this moment on, you _are_ Soboles._

_Good luck brat and be careful. I shall come for you._

_Always,_

_Arcana._

* * *

Hadrian fumbled for his medallion and spoke the word quickly. "Pretiosum!"

In retrospect Lady really should have warned him.

Hadrian fell over after the world stopped spinning and that strange hooked feeling below his navel disappeared.

"Well aren't you pretty."

Looking up Hadrian came face to face with a slender black cat. A talking cat. Remembering at the last-minute _not_ to drop his jaw to the floor, Hadrian allowed himself to work on autopilot.

"My cousin, Arcana of the Deorum, clan of d'Arc, seeks asylum for her cousin, myself, Soboles of the Deorum for an unknown amount of time. Direct and safe passage to The Viridian and is requested. Immediately. Compensation will be provided as well as one favor to be collected at a later date."

The cat gave what Hadrian thought may have been a feline bow and started walking to the door.

"Quickly now young Prince. We have to move if we're to make the next voyage."

Hadrian felt his head start to spin again and this time it had nothing to do with surprise transportation. Deciding staying silent would be the best strategy right now, Hadrian only nodded and followed the strange talking cat.

* * *

**XXXXXX**

* * *

Walking down a narrow path of grass and one set of railroad tracks, fenced in on both sides by tall, thick hedges which met several feet over head, Hadrian quietly conversed with Eridanous the Cat. The cat who now looked like a young man, about Lady's age, with short golden hair, high cheek bones and blue eyes. This was not in fact the strangest pieces of Hadrian's day. He did not know if that was comforting or something he should take as omen for the rest of the day. Turns out it was the latter.

They came upon a clearing at a large black lake in the middle of a wide meadow, surrounded by the same tall hedges from before. Eridanous took this as a signal to poof back into a cat. Hadrian walked to the edge of the lake and he waited.

Four hours later and Eridanous, not settled about Hadrian's shoulders, kneaded his claws impatiently. Hadrian couldn't blame him. It was maybe nine or ten in the morning and here, wherever they were, the sun was already beating down. He stared out at the lake, ignoring the children of varying ages scattered around him. It was very deep and very still. Near his feet lay the same tracks the train tracks Eridanous and Hadrian had followed. they lead down into the depths of the lake.

Gasps from the crowd around him drew Hadrian's attention. He blinked. He blinked again. In the distance, at the other end of the lake, he could see an olde fashion steamship. He watched, curiously, as it grew in size the closer it came. His eyes widened and he jumped aside at the last moment as the great ship rolled onto the shore. Rolled.

Green eyes followed the hallucination down from the clouds of steam to the stern. Only, where there ought to have been the bottom of the ship he saw instead the bottom half of a steam engine. A train.

He watched, in utter disbelief, as large metal wheels pulled the ship- train?- along the tracks, slicing grass. It came to a screechy halt, deafening whistles declaring its arrival.

"Have you ever seen anything like that in your life?" Hadrian asked, awestruck.

The cat shrugged, and then started licking a paw as if to say 'That's not so special, have you SEEN my glossy coat today?'

Laughing Hadrian ran forward to join the roughly forming line. At the head of the queue a ramp lowered and several women in trim pale green suits filled out, smiles pasted on their faces.

One in particular, with fluffy ruby curls poking out from under a heavily creased beret, clapped her hands. Only when the crowd achieved a reasonable level of silence did she speak.

"Thank you for your attention. I am crew member six-one-six and I will be your chaperone today. Please form neat lines and wait patiently. Each of our admission clerks is pleased to serve you and will get to you in turn as soon as possible," She said quickly, flashing a smile and motioning for the admission clerks to move into place.

The line moved slowly and the sun rose higher in the sky. At some point one of the admission clerks brought us water in little paper cups. It hardly held more than a gulp but Hadrian was thankful even for that.

Finally it was his turn at the desk.

A short, stringy haired woman with frighteningly long yellow nails held out her hand. He stared at it trying to decipher what she wanted. The heat was getting to him and he wasn't in the mood for any of this, quite frankly.

"Tokens." She prompted, arching an over-plucked brow.

Pretending to fall into a fit of sneezes, he bought time to think of a way around this. As though reading the small boy's distress Eridanous leaned down and batted at the medallion hanging around his neck. Hadrian didn't get it. Did he want him to use it as trade for passage? He doubted that would go over well with Lady. The cat issued an annoyed_ 'frow'_ sound and leaned back up, pressing in close to Hadrian's left ear, his whiskers tickling .

"You can use your family seal as payment. Simply present it to the admission clerk, then press it in the ink and stamp the passenger roll," Whispered the Eridanous the Cat in a soft voice.

Grasping his necklace he held it out to the admission clerk. First she looked annoyed and then the woman's face paled, and fumbling, she hastily pulled out a wooden box. The inside contained a golden pad of ink. Hadrian cautiously pressed the medallion, the part indented with -apparently- his family seal, into the soft pad. It squished.

Hadrian had scarcely marked the little space on the passenger roll before it was whisked away and a clerk lead him away from the line and up the ramp. He scrambled up behind her, passing the queue of people waiting to make their way on board. Some of them scowled, others were surprised. Eridanous shook his head, tail flicking in an amused way. Hadrian suppressed a smile.

With a gush of cool air two doors opened revealing a metallic corridor; the temperature seemed to fall twenty degrees. Eventually they were led down the corridor passing a small waiting room to our left, down a hallway to the right and into a bright blue living area.

The walls, the giant floor cushions and chairs, all in shades of blue. Immediately Hadrian leapt onto the nearest cushion, sinking my head into the plush fabric. As one of the clerks rattled on about the adjoining rooms and various features included, he barely listened. Finally a faint clicking of her heels indicated she was gone.

He woke from his spontaneous nap an hour later. A small ball of black fur curled beside him, shiny eyes watchful. Hadrian stretched and sat up, kicking off his boots. They fell with an odd echo along the tiled floor.

Eridanous morphed into himself, sprawling across a sopha. Hadrian guessed he decided Hadrian being awake constituted as guard duty being over.

Before He could speak a large screen on the far wall came to life. Crew member six-one-six's face filled the screen and instructed all passengers to take a seat. A bright orange belt snaked out of the cushions and wrapped around his waist pulling him to a seat. With a flash of her perfect smile six-one-six saluted the passengers and ordered them to enjoy the ride. Her image disappeared and in its place was a window showing the belly of the lake.

The ship/train roared to life and as we got further from shore odd yellow reeds brushed against the window. A tinkling alarm sounded alerting us the ship had begun descending below the surface. They sat in silence, Hadrian in awe of the beauty outside of his window. No one spoke, not a single word for several hours. He had never felt more at peace in his entire life.

The blaring horn of the ship shocked him awake. Blinking, he shook his head and felt the belt release him. Hadrian guessed that meant it was safe to get up. Three sharp knocks struck the door causing him to jump.

"Follow along please," a voice barked.

They were led up several floors into a round room lined with tables along one side and a small stage along the other. On the far wall hr could see faded paintings of strange flat creatures with flying over a garden. The detail was amazing.

The other passenger, who were already seated, turned to stare at the late comers. They quickly took seats. His right knee bounced while he waited for the attention to drift back to the stage. Finally, crew member six-one-six walked out but all he could see was the shiny red apple in the palm of her left hand.

"Salutations and welcome to the Archangel, a one of a kind Hydrodynamic-Locomotive. Now, I understand you must be dying to know where we are going and what is going to happen next. All of you are here because you require emergency passage. We can now tell you what that entails."

Two green lights flashed above her head and door he hadn't seen until then swung open at the back of the stage. A purple carpet rolled out of its own accord, down the center of the stage and down the steps. It stopped three feet from the table where they were sitting. All the children, some of them in their teens and twenties, stared at it.

"Beyond this door is the departure deck. You will ride in an elevator to the upper deck of the ship where you will stay until you disembark. All of your belongings will be in your new rooms at the academy waiting for you until you decide to remain or someone arrives to fetch you. Girls and boys it is my great honor to inform you; you've been brought to…"

Hadrian swallowed, sensing something amazing was about to happen.

"…The Viridian."

It happened all at once. Up rose a loud, excited and impatient horde of young adults. Hadrian made his way through as quickly as he could manage, Eridanous swiping at anyone daring to push back. They made it through the door and an elevator came into sight to the left, Hadrian made a beeline for it. Pounding his hand on the CLOSE button, a glass door swung shut and blocked the merciless crowed of children on the other side.

His heart felt like it was skipping beats and his hands shook at his side. _A floating city with the ocean in the sky._ That's what Lady called it. Her home.

_The Viridian._

* * *

The platform raised to the top deck, which was invisible in the starless night. Hadrian smelled freshly damp earth, cut grass and Jasmine from the island. _We must be docked or near shore._

A cool breeze from the darkness caressed his cheeks, his bare arms and tousled his hair. The movement of the great ship on the waves combined with the utter darkness caused Hadrian to feel off balance, like he was in a free fall. Instinctively he reached out with his hands and grasped the first thing they came in contact with. His fingers curled around cold metal, he thought it might be the railing. Closing his eyes against the blackness and regaining his sea legs, he was immediately struck by the silence. Hadrian had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn't noticed it at first. It was peaceful, warm and almost holy, like the silence in one of those grand cathedrals with polished angels and painted windows.

A quick flash shone behind his eyelids. He snapped them open. Darkness. Then a low roar came at them from all side of the blackness, growing in volume until Hadrian was forced to release the rail and clap his hands over his ears. Their very bones seemed to shake from the unearthly thunder, rolling in waves surrounding them. He felt this hair floating upward with static and saw the electricity on the air, snapping and crackling, faintly breaking up the darkness like glittering stars on black velvet. The minute specks of crackling light began creeping together in swirling groups. He stared, fascinated. The groups of light began smashing into each other, lighting raining down from them toward the earth in jagged in lines. But Hadrian wasn't looking at the stars and lightning anymore; it was the world their light revealed which had his undivided attention.

The sky was an ever-changing ocean of purples, blues and golds, within which swam an assortment of creatures unknown to me. Some were high among the clouds, their flat bodies and long wispy tails darting to-and-fro while they flitted between the electric heavens and the island below it. Red creatures, snake-like with trailing whiskers were closer to us, black eyes glinting. And bobbing in and out of the tall grasses stretching from the dock along the coast of the island were transparent bubble-like creatures. He could have easily fit several into the palm of his hand. Down a wide path, in the middle of all this wonder, lay an immense garden with grand leafy trees, branches reaching toward the sky.

They seemed to be going in groups, as the next group of children arrived on the top deck were told to wait. Hadrian followed a line down the ramp and onto the docks. The sun was rising behind us, the storm fading and within a few minutes the docks came to life. Men, whom hr assumed to be sailors or merchants, paced along in groups, sometimes arguing, sometimes clasping their arms 'round one another in greeting. A tall man with a long braided beard read aloud from a list to a shorter, ruddy faced man who in turn barked orders at three, unshaven men unloading crates from his small trading ship. Hadrian eyed the taller man's man coat as we passed him by; it was blood red and intricately covered with silver stitching. Six flat buttons held the coat closed under his long beard, which must have taken hours to braid. Looking around he noticed the other men who seemed important also had their beards creatively styled, some braided, others in sweeping curlicues.

At the end of the docks and across a short patch of lawn, sprawled wide gently rising steps. Directly beyond lay a round building with an enormous archway and three towers of different heights, moving skywalks connecting them. Students in uniforms bustled about, some of them gathered in semi-circles around teachers, others hurriedly fetching books or maybe ingredients for private instructors. Twin girls with short pink-ish hair and pointed noses walked by, each holding a glass sphere with butterflies inside. They glanced at us, then lifted their chins and turned their eyes away.

They followed along through the archway which he guessed to be fifty feet wide and at least twice as high. Directly within was a wide circular room, lit by thousands of tiny, floating cast-iron bowls filled with a bubbling green light. Looking up he could see people leaning over the balconies to look at them.

No they were looking at _him_. Even the people who came with him from the ship. The pointed at him. At his medallion.

And they whispered.

* * *

Hadrian glared at his reflection. Whatever Lady had done to him hadn't worn off. He was grateful for that. But playing the Prince was wearing on him. He scoffed mentally. Prince. His new nickname given him by the other kids. Meant to mock him in the beginning. Well he'd shown them hadn't he? Ten years old or not he was apprentinced to Lady and while he might not know everything about her, he knew enough to know that position deserved proper respect.

It had been three weeks since he saw Lady and escaped to the Viridian. He would be reunited with her tonight.

"Why am I wearing this? Why am I even going? Can't I wait until the party is over?" Hadrian whined. Something he never did with anyone else. Not here.

Eridanous, his newly acquired man servant (boy servant more like. He couldn't be older than Lady), dressed in various shades of pale gold, straightened his shirt and smoothed the cloak hanging on his shoulders.

"Because you are a prince. Because you're My Lady's cousin. Because it is expected..." He stood behind Hadrian and studied his reflection, "and because you look adorable."

Hadrian scowled at him.

"I am not adorable."

"Oh but you are _your highness_ and that glare is too cute."

Hadrian was forcefully turned around. Eridanous looked him over critically. Since he had picked out Hadrian's clothes, Hadrian didn't believe he had much to complain about. He wore a dark, almost black, purple tunic, black pants and a black cloak edged in gold. Eridanous nodded, finding him satisfactory.

Hadrian thought he looked like a ponce.

* * *

The party was like nothing he had ever seen. A very large hall that opened to the night air on two side was painted in grand designs. Everywhere. There wasn't one spot without decoration. Everyone dressed in fine clothing, stood straight and spoke with clear, educated voices. He wasn't sure he could handle this.

Oblivious to his charge's nerves Eridanous dragged him about the ballroom, introducing him to Lady this, Count that, son or daughter of minister someone. He would never remember any of these people. Then he heard it. Lady's voice. They both turned and looked to their right. A small crowd was creating a ring around a tall blond man with long hair, pale skin and blue eyes...and Lady. There she was, not fifteen feet away, dressed in a dark purple version of the long tunic and jacket combo she always wore, sans the jacket, and her hair was brushed nicely. Oh wait, there were the sunglasses. They looked incredibly out of place against the rest of her outfit.

Eridanous pushed him forward until they stood next to and just behind Lady who nodded at them without missing a beat of her conversation.

"A man who does not think for himself deserves to be used. A weak willed man deserves to be bent to the will of others. A cowardly man deserves to be bullied. You, sir, are none of these. Why do you pretend so?"

"What do you imply?" The blond man asked in a smooth cultured voice, clearly insulted.

"Your beliefs, your opinions, are exactly that. Regardless of what others think, regardless of your _alleged_ lord's thoughts or the thoughts of your father. You think for yourself, are brave enough to say so, clever enough to say them effectively and have strength of will to stand up for them in debate with others who would challenge them. You are intelligent, well learned, clever, strong willed and varying shades of brave. Why do you allow yourself to lay with lesser men, as a marked servant, when you could stand your ground as an equal? You do yourself a disservice."

"I am quite certain no one as ever spoken to me in such a manner, certainly not a woman. Certainly not a young woman."

"And how do you find the experience?"

"Delightful." He replied, grinning.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. We can all agree I've not escaped unscathed, but I fear I am becoming masochistic of sorts... as I wish desperately to come back and be struck down again."

"Well then, I hope to find you on the battlefield yet again that I might deliver the pain you so obviously seek."

He bowed deeply. "I intend it so. Allow me to rectify my earlier rudeness. They call me Lord Lucius Malfoy."

Lady returned the bow, rather regally to Hadrian's delight.

"They call me Lady."

"Ah, I've insulted a woman of equal station no less. It seems my embarrassment at your hands knows no ends."

"Alright, alright you've hogged her long enough Malfoy. Plenty of time to flirt with the young lady later. Let me introduce the rest of the group then shall I?" An older woman with many pieces of jewelry interrupted.

Introductions went around the circle and Hadrian nodded in all the right places. A funny creäture carrying a tray of drink popped in front of him, startling him and breaking the monotony in a fabulous fashion.

"What in the Queens names is that thing?"

Next to him Eridanous snickered. "Elf. House Elf."

Twenty minutes of elfish history later Hadrian blinked up at Eridanous.

"Well that's only...horrifying..."

He grinned.

"If you are _finished being_ idiotic_._" A voice admonished.

Hadrian spun around. Without waiting for permission he flung his arms around the body in front of him.

"Lady!"


	7. Chapter 6

**AN:** Here is a fresh chapter for you.

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

**UPDATED AN:**_ I have posted a series of one shots depicting the dreams Harry had before the story started. I will be updating it with more as I go along. Let me know if you have any requests for it. I got a PM asking about doing something like that and I thought the idea had merit. Let me know If I'm wrong or right._

_-Pseudonymous _

* * *

Got all the puppets with their strings up  
Faking like a good one, but I call 'em like I see 'em  
I know what you are_  
_

* * *

**CH 6**

"Yes her." Said one.

"I can't believe it, what does she think she is trying to prove?" Said another.

"Oh that's Lady." Said a third gossip, joining two friends near the beverage table.

"Who?"

"You_ haven't heard_ what they're saying about her?"

"No! What?"

A low voice interrupted them from behind, "They say I'm crazy."

The girls jumped and whirled around, faces paling.

Lady studied them, a drink in hand and began to circle them like a wolf.

"They say I'm aloof, arrogant and argumentative. Alliterations aside, they say I'm messed up," she tapped her forehead, "In here. That I like to venture into the more _shadowy areas _of the world. The unethical side of things. I wear pants and men-like attire because it suits my vicious and hard interior. That I'll do anything to get what I want and that I have the ear of many politicians. They say I'm wealthy from the inheritance I gained after I poisoned my brother and killed our father. Considering this..."

She slowed even more, the atmosphere immediately around her prey cooling, frost spidering along the glass of their drinks.

"Considering this. Taking into account _all you think you know_. Is this the sort of person you wish to gain as an enemy?"

She froze, mid-step, turned to them slightly, cocked her head and offered a most terrifying smile.

"No?"

No one spoke. No one moved.

"That's the most intelligent thing I've heard you say all night ladies."

With a last, mocking bow, she walked away leaving three very distraught women in her wake.

Hadrian stepped from the corner he had commandeered in his efforts to avoid Eridanous. Sipping his drink he considered the conversation he overheard. In all honesty he knew he ought not to have eavesdropped on Lady's conversation and the proper thing to do would have been to reveal himself immediately after she joined the conversation. But he had not. His curiosity got the better of him and now he puzzled what to do with this knew found information. Firstly, was any of it true? He knew from experience that while Lady wouldn't lie to anyone _directly_ she had an uncommon relationship with words allowing her to say things without actually saying them. She could probably talk her way out of execution, should the need arise.

So, what does one do now? Perhaps he should use more dark corners to his advantage and see what else he could learn from gossip alone before he started his own research. Only then would he confront her to confirm or prove false the information. After all, he may only be ten years and eleven months of age, but he had Lady for mentor since the age of six. Hang around her long enough and you start to pick up some useful (sneaky) habits.

He wasn't her apprentice for nothing.

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

"Their inability to hear your name _without shrieking in fear _is sure to raise some eyebrows."

Lady hummed. "Eridanous, I'd say if they spoke of the event no one would believe them-"

"-only some would. On the bright side-"

"-they can't prove a thing." She finished.

Eridanous sighed and downed his drink. "I'm afraid I'll need many more tonight."

"Ah, speaking of things requiring alcohol to deal with properly, how is the lamb fairing?"

"Soboles is adapting quickly, intelligent and manages to keep his tongue in check from what I've seen. Where on earth did you get him? I'm sure my mother would like to buy one."

"Your mother _is dead _Eri."

"Yes, well, whose fault is that?"

"Mine."

"And if she were living-" Eridanous continued as if his employer wasn't the murderer of his mother, "she would very much want one. Who is he?"

"Soboles Deorum."

He downed the second drink he'd begun sipping. Put it down, grabbed a third and eyed Lady suspiciously.

Lady tapped her chest where her heart should be.

"Couldn't lie if I wanted to, remember?"

"But...I thought you didn't have..."

Her answer was only to put a finger to her lips.

Eridanous scowled. "Yes, yes_, that would be telling_."

She snorted.

"What is it now?"

"Hadrian has very nearly the same reaction."

"Does he? Maybe there is hope for him yet despite his questionable familial connections..."

He dodged a swat aimed for his head.

"Now, now, _My Lady, _you wouldn't want to spill your champagne."

She shot him a dirty look.

* * *

**XXXXXXX**

* * *

Lucius Malfoy prided himself on being an excellent opportunist. As such, the moment he met Lady he knew he would simply have to get to know her. From the rumors he'd heard and what he knew from his own experience with her, she made a fantastic enemy. Which meant, of course, that Lucius needed to make an ally of her at once. Her snarky attitude, intelligence and looks had nothing to do with his desire to get to know her better. None at all.

The object of his inner musings stood not far from him eavesdropping on a conversation. The leader of which, Donovan the Grey, was an old acquaintance of Lucius. He was fond enough of him, in his own way, he certainly had his uses and his personality was acceptable. At the moment Donovan was waving his hands excitedly, rattling on about some book or other he'd gotten hold of. It wouldn't be just any book, not when Donovan was involved. His entire family traded illegal goods, Donovan's specialty being rare or banned scrolls and books.

Whatever it was it would be valuable certainly.

Lucius glanced over at Lady. Her attention hadn't wavered. Whatever the book was it seemed to have caught her attention. He smiled. As mentioned before; opportunist.

"Miss Lady, if I might inquire what has stolen your attention so?"

She turned to him as he approached her. Although he could not see her eyes he got the immediate sense of being judged for his worth.

"That man there. Do you know him?"

He inclined his head.

"I do. He is an old associate of mine actually. I have known him many years. He deals with trading of the less than legal sort. Uncommon books and scrolls mostly. His library is massive."

The slightest inhale of breath. That was all she gave away. It was all Lucius needed. He had guessed right. Now to use this to his advantage and gain her favor.

"If it would please you, I could fashion myself an invitation to see his latest acquisition. If you were to...follow me...and peruse his library during that time, none would be wiser. Does this interest you or would you prefer to keep your hands clean?"

Lady smirked and he got a vague sense of approval.

She raised her hand to show a glove. "I come prepared."

"Indeed."

He turned walked purposefully to Donovan's little group of dark intellectuals. Ignoring them all entirely, as he was one to do, he pulled Donovan to the side. A few well placed compliments later and he had himself an invitation to come by the Grey Estate. Lucius expressed his pleasure at the invitation and suggested Donovan leave first and Lucius would follow after. After all a politician such as himself can hardly be seen doing something so shady. Donovan said he understood and promptly left for the garden.

Lucius could only assume he meant to apparate from there. He, however, intended to walk there with Lady. It was far from the party and it would give him time alone with her. Time he wouldn't get otherwise until they knew each other better. It was unseemly you know. And Lucius was nothing if not a proper gentleman.

He returned to Lady and offered a small bow and his arm.

"Shall we?"

"Lead on my Lord." She teased.

While they made their way out the side archway and down around the garden path Lucius mused if anyone else dared act si flippantly toward him he would be most offended. As it was when Lady did so he found it charming. He told a small traitorous part of himself that it was most definitely not attractive and that the excess of punch was waddling his sense. He'd not partake of anymore this night, just in case.

A shiny tool fastened to a belt around her waist caught his attention.

He cleared his throat. "My Lady, what is that you have there? Hanging from your belt."

A gloved hand pulled it out with nimble fingers, twirling it cleverly. She tossed it up, caught it and offered it to Lucius, handle out. Or he supposed this is end was meant to be the handle.

"Take it. If you can figure how to make it work I shall give you lessons."

He took it in his hands. It was cool and a bit heavy. As they walked, after he gave Lady directions to the estate, he attempted to twirl it as she had done. If he dropped it many times while he trying he would never tell. Finally a fate click was heard.

"See here Lady, I believe I have done something. What happens next."

She looked at him over her shoulder, one hand raised to knock at the estate entrance.

"Aim at something, not myself preferably, and pulled the trigger."

"Trigger?"

She turned back to the door and rapped it three times.

"Yes. The crescent shaped bit of metal by the handle."

"Like this?"

The demonic thing shuddered violently in his hands producing a loud blast that echoed in the silence of the night. Looking ahead he froze. Apparently he had very nearly blown a hole into Lady herself, which she had specifically advised him not to do. As it was he'd only blown a hole in the door. Still not his best moment.

"That is one was to make an entrance." Said Lady dryly.

Lucius held the thing away from him as if it might bite him. For all he knew, it might.

"Oh...no..." she muttered in fake despair.

He looked at her.

"Oh no what?"

She took her hand and waved it over the handle. Lucius could see the air rippling it front of it. A dull click sounded and the door swung open. On the ground immediately inside lay Donovan. Red liquid blossoming across his chest.

"You killed him!" He accused, staring at her.

"No," she corrected, "_you did._"

She pointed at the small wound on Donovan's chest, then at the thing in his hands.

"You didn't tell me it was dangerous." he spluttered.

His rambling continued, including hand gestures Donovan would have surely approved of, had he been yet among the living.

While he momentarily lots leave of his sense he was vaguely aware of Lady cleaning the blood from the floor and Donovan himself, repairing the hole in the door and covering the dead man with a sheet.

She turned to look at him.

"When you've finished feeling guilty I'll be rifling through his library," She turned walked down the hall, boots clicking.

Lucius followed after her, horror replaced with indignation.

"Do not speak to me in such a tone. With condensation. Like I am a child. How would you respond if you'd only just killed one of your friends by accident?" He demanded. And if he were stomping behind her petulantly he studiously ignored it.

She turned to the right and stopped in front of a pair of doors. They did indeed lead to the library though he was too frazzled to ask how she knew that fact.

"Don't be silly Lucius, I have never _accidentally_ killed anyone. I'm afraid I cannot relate."

Lucius got the implication immediately. She had not killed accidentally no, but she had killed. He felt his guard go up a bit as he watched her tear down what he knew be a heavily warded and cursed library, and stroll in without a care.

"How in Merlin's name did you do that?" he asked, edging into the room suspiciously.

"Whatever do you mean?" she returned, her attentions already on a chosen aisle of the massive library. Gloved fingers gently tracing the spines of books.

"No witch or wizard other than Donovan himself should have been able to enter into the library safely, wards on the outside or no- and you will be explaining that by the way- so how is it we are in here, now, not dead?"

"Really Lucius, are you complaining?"

"Certainly not. It is a favorable course of events, ignoring the dead man, but my curiosity stays madam. How did you do it?"

"I took down the safeguards when we entered." she stated, matter-of-factly.

"How?" he pressed.

"It is as you said, 'no witch or wizard' can enter safely. Think about it."

And so Lucius did. Quickly. He did not become a high-ranking Death Eater and successful politician without being able to think on his feet.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you?"

She grinned, though she still did not think him important enough to look at.

"Ding! Ding! Ding! He got it on the first try. Not bad."

"You are not going to explain yourself tonight, are you?"

"I'm not."

He sighed and leaned against one of the desks in the room. Lucius watched her browse for a while and absent-mindedly glanced through the books on the desk. Finally he broke the silence. It was important to know what would happen next. He liked her sure, but if she was intending on using her powers on Lucius he needed to be ready.

"I really ought to call the Aurors you know." _Never thought I'd ever say that._

"You murdered a man, broke into his home and helped a convict into his illegal library, of which you had prior knowledge. You are in no position to tell anyone anything my friend."

"I helped a what now?"

"Criminal. I'm a criminal. Of course considering present company, that's semantics."

Lucius blinked. "I suppose we ought to return to the party before we're missed."

She walked out.

Lucius followed, closing the doors to the library behind them.

* * *

**XXXXXX**

* * *

"I still can't believe you went through a dead man's pockets, stole his money and took the ward stone for his house."

_"My house."_

"Yes, _your house._ Do you just do this everyday? Go around killing people and taking their things?"

"Yes."

Lucius paused.

"oh."

Lady patted him on the back, kissed his cheek and whispered, "You'll get used to it."

And then she was gone. Fading back into the party.

* * *

**XXXXXX**

* * *

Hadrian turned at Lady's approach.

"And where have you been? You left me to fend for myself. I have had no less than three old women attempt to fix me up with their granddaughters."

"Would you prefer their grandsons?"

"You're not funny."

Lady reached out and messed his hair.

"You're fun."

Eridanous made choking sounds behind Hadrian. Probably because it had taken him a good hour to get it neat.

"How much longer till this is finished then?"

This seemed to bring Eridanous back to reality, though it could be the comb he was now sliding through Hadrian's hair. He wasn't sure.

"An hour."

Lady clucked her teeth.

"That won't do. I'm bored." She pulled out a small device from her pocket, turned to face the rest of the party and clicked it.

Hadrian felt his jaw fall open in a _very_ unprincely way. The world around them sped up. This went on for several minutes. Lady clicked the device once more and the world returned to normal.

"What was that?" Hadrian squeaked.

Lady turned to him, frowning.

"What was what Soboles?"

He gestured wildly.

"That. You fast forward reality. With a thingy!"

A glove slipped off and she pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Are you ill?"

"W-what?"

She turned and walked toward the entrance hall without another word.

Fantastically bewildered, Hadrian looked at Eridanous.

"Is she mad or am I?"

"I ask myself the same question everyday."

* * *

Responses:

**ALICE:** Thank you, I'm glad you like her. Ah you shall have to keep reading to find out. It is interesting you think that. Yes, I am trying to get their dynamic across so it's good to see that it seems to be. Don't worry- he'll be here sooner than you think!

**FANFICKID:** Thanks! She isn't on purpose, she really does mean what she says. Oh it's interesting you caught on to that already. Well done. You'll find out soon. No she was never involved with the Death Eaters. She will be seeing one of them very soon, you shall have to tell me what you think of it afterward yeah? Wow thanks! You will and it will be...interesting haha.

**HARUNA PAN:** Thanks, I try. No problem.

**Anonymous Guest**: What did you think of the confrontation? Yes he does and I feel bad for him but I have to let horrible things happen to him. It's "for the greater good". ;)


	8. Chapter 7

**AN:** Hello everyone. I must apologize for taking longer than normal to post the next update. Forgive me, yeah?

-Pseudonymous

* * *

I have created a series of one shots depicting the dreams Hadrian has prior to the beginning of ACOF. Check it out if you are curious.

* * *

_When your dreams all fail_  
_And the ones we hail_  
_Are the worst of all_  
_And the blood's run stale_  
_I wanna hide the truth_  
_I wanna shelter you_  
_But with the beast inside_  
_There's nowhere we can hide_

* * *

The next morning, head full of more questions than normal, or rather ones he didn't normally consider, Hadrian walked down the stairs and to the little room set to the side of the main dining room. He knew from Eridanous that the cooks had placed some of the sweeter breakfast foods here and he intended to investigate.

Five minutes into his ravenous devouring of Cinnamon rolls he heard voices and footsteps. Now this wouldn't be a problem if Hadrian had not in fact been told by Lady to remain unseen. With far less than a moment to spare Hadrian ducked under the table-cloth and hid himself below the table in as small of a ball as he was capable for contortioning into.

"I don't know what to think of her, but I doubt very much she is as clever and put together as she wants to seem. Lady is rarely out in society and Merlin knows what she gets up to the rest of the time. Horrid rumours surround that girl. No, she's just another 'light side' minor noble trying to hammer her way in. We don't need any more of those." Sniffed a voice he recognized as Lady Parkinson.

He crept forward and peeked under the cloth just a bit to see was in the room.

A blonde leaned forward, seamlessly joining the group. "Oh? And why must we thrust her into wither 'the light side' or 'the dark side'? Didn't I hear you just yesterday complaining about the Prophet's usage of that term?"

"I- yes but this is different. We know you are either light or dark, what I have complaint against is that one or other seems to also coincide with whether or are 'good' or 'bad' which is silly."

Lord Nott, an older man with mousey brown hair, snorted. "You are either a 'Have' or a 'Have Not' and if you don't like it you should do something about it."

_Well he did say to himself he ought to eavesdrop more often._

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

Lucius wondered whether the pun was intentional. It probably was, Nott was cleverer than one might think.

"I oddly agree with that on a base level."

The group jumped.

"Hello Lady, good morning." Lucius greeted, pleased.

"Good morning. What are we discussing?"

"The way the paper splits the world up into two groups, good and evil, right and wrong, black or white...'

Lady looked like she was already bored with the conversation. "Ah, I see."

Grabbing the opportunity Lucius touched her shoulder and asked, "What do you think Lady?"

She considered him a moment, in that far too observant way of hers. She, no doubt, knew exactly what he was doing. Apparently she didn't mind as she did not call him on it nor did she attempt to avoid the conversation. She only glanced over the group, maybe deciding how best to form her answer considering the company. He did hope she put on a show about it. From what he had seen Lady quite enjoyed making people uncomfortable and forcing them to think for themselves. He couldn't say it didn't amuse him. He approved, actually.

"I? I believe the world is made of the following types of people; there are victims and bullys, lovers and haters, users and the used, kings and pawns, heroes and villains, and then there is side kicks and bad guys. I also believe the line between the two in each group is very thin and we rarely choose our side for ourselves. We simply are what the world creates us to be. This is seen most of all in the case of Villains, Heroes and Bad Guys. So, while you might name someone 'white or black' depending on how you favor their place, the fact is the world put them there and so create the 'sides' themselves. I think this, in its self, shows that there is no black or white. At least, not in a true sense of it all."

Lucius grinned at the looks on the other purebloods faces.

"Alright, I'll bite. Explain yourself." Nott appeared intrigued.

"A villain knows exactly who he is, what he wants and why. A villain never wavers in his beliefs and will very nearly win at the end because of this. Bad Guys...they believe in the villain, in the cause and are swept along with it. Similar to the pawns of the 'light' side, yes?"

Lady Parkinson cocked her head. "And the hero?"

"A hero is a poorly prepared and largely uneducated sacrificial lamb, offered up by the old heroes who have paid their dues and the cowards (side kicks and victims) who prefer someone else to fight their battles for them. The hero spends the entire story wasting his life living out the consequences of choices the world chooses for him in an effort to receive validation of his worth as a human from the world that is using him. He feels a thirst to prove himself because if he fails he goes back to being the nobody he was before he became the chosen one. He will sacrifice the right to make his own choices and live his own life in favor of playing puppet to a world that does not deserve it and after he has beaten our villain, from a combination of luck and talented friends, he will mourn the loss of the villain. And do you know why?"

"Why?" Nott asked. He, like the rest of the group, were hanging on her every word.

"Because at the end of the day, he and the villain were not so different. Because, more often than we feel comfortable acknowledging, the villain was a hero in training who decided to throw off his chains and take revenge on the society that sought to cage him. On the people who hurt him and used him and did all the things they did to the hero of the story. And because the only reason the hero had his value was because of the villains presence. The hero wins the epic battle in the climax of the story, and then loses his purpose. That, my friends, is what true tragedy is."

Lady Parkinson decided to challenge Lady.

"Lady, which class do you see yourself in? King and Pawns, Users and the Used or Heroes and Villains?" For all of them had no doubts Lady belonged in one of those.

"Heroes and Villains or perhaps King and Pawns." She said this quite matter-of-factly.

Unable to help himself Lucius pressed her. "And? Which are you?"

"That would be telling."

Nott smiled, "Please Lady, you must give us something."

She considered. "Alright I shall leave you with a riddle then."

The group nodded approvingly. This was a clever way to give them the answer by giving them the hint and allowing them to figure it out themselves. This way she could always deny it later on, because riddles can be open to interpretation. Well played indeed.

"When it comes to good guys and bad guys, taking into account all that I have told you, I can assure you that my answer is in the following. Here is the riddle, are we men who think we are monsters, monsters who think we are men, men pretending to be monsters or- are some of us monsters pretending to be men?"

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

The rest of the day each within the group was found to be quieter than usual, all of them pondering her words and the unexpected sneakiness she displayed in using that particular riddle. Some were impressed, some were apprehensive, some were excited and some were skeptical. Regardless, everyone was reconsidering their evaluations of her. Lady may not be very old yet and she may be new to their scene but she was someone to watch. Because, they speculated, she had to have learned these skills somewhere.

Exactly as Lucius intended it. After his own adventure with Lady the night before he had come to a conclusion. Lady had potential. She was going to become someone who made changes in their world, someone written in about in books. He could sense it, how could he not? It was so eerily similar to the feeling he had gotten years ago about another talented individual. Yes, she would go far and he intended to join in the ride.

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

Hadrian sat beside Eridanous at dinner, one ear to the conversations going on around him. Since Lady had returned to him he begun making discoveries about her that he wan not entirely certain he had prepared for. Of course one must make small preparations when one is intending to listen in on other people's conversations that one might hear things he'd rather not. Hadrian knew this but had never had to apply it before now. His muggle relatives had never had anything nearly as interesting as this to over hear.

If Hadrian had been a less curious boy, a more cautious boy or even a less intelligent boy, he may have decided he was meddling in things that weren't any of his best and left it alone.

He was none of those.

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

"Do you want to know something interesting I have observed?"

Lady turned to the blonde sitting beside her. She raised a brow.

He took this as permission to continue speaking.

"I have noticed that in books the villains are always ugly. They have scars or unnerving laughs or humped backs or pointed teeth. I think they do this because if they were beautiful it would be much harder to recognize them and much harder to hate them even after. I have also noticed that, in real life, the villains are often the ones whom look least like it and that the ones who notice first are less than pure themselves. I wonder why that is."

Lady sat up straighter and gave him a small smile.

"That, Lucius, is because it is the ones standing in the shadows who are best able to see the darkness in others. When you stand in the light you forget them or even believe they've gone. Shadows are very clever in this way."

The entire table was doing it's best to pretend that they hadn't slowed in their eating or stopped their own conversations to listen to the two of them. Lucius knew better and he suspected Lady did to. She did not seem to want to end the conversation though, no, she seemed amused.

"Would you like to know something I have observed?" Lady offered.

"Yes, please."

"Those is the light," she put emphasis on it Lucius noticed, "like to create shadows in others when they feel threatened by them in some petty way. I believe this helps them deny the the pieces of darkness possible in themselves. They seem, to me, to forget that it is the light which creates the shadows. Or perhaps they know this well and it is why they fear the dark so. Because they know that it is in the darkest of nights that the brightest of stars appear. I believe their jealousy becomes them."

He grinned. "Well said. Which do you prefer Lady, the light or the shadow?"

"I like both well enough."

He could hear the murmurings that statement brought. Lady was very good at The Game. She said things without saying them and you could never decide if she meant what you thought she meant or if you ought to be reading between the lines. The result was you felt both very stupid and very clever depending on whether or not you thought you understood.

The aristocrat was reminded, again, of someone he had known. Someone else who seemed so natural at The Game, so well spoken and cunning. Shivers prickled along his spine.

He could cross 'pawn' off the list.

* * *

**AN:** _And there you have it._

Coming up: they leave the gathering and return to the Viridian. The wizarding world comes knocking. Lady gives Hadrian a birthday present.

* * *

_In my story important parties are social gatherings of one-up-man-ship the higher circles of pureblood society hold throughout the year and they last two to three days, the first day being a dinner and a dance, the second a series of meals and discussions and the third being a dinner and a very formal ball to which lesser purebloods and various important people from outside the circle are invited to. _


	9. Chapter 8

**AN:** *much fanfare* The next chapter is presented. Be amazed and all that jazz.

_Let me know if you have any question, Hogwarts will be making an appearance here soon and I want to make sure all relevant questions are answered (though some wont be just yet.)_

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_

* * *

_Won't stop until we're done_  
_We've only just begun_  
_We are the face of a new generation_  
_We are the ones who have no reservation_  
_Don't give a damn 'bout your cold calculation_  
_Welcome to the Master Plan_

* * *

Miles away in a tall dark prison a young mind healer with paperwork tucked under his arm kicked twice on the barred gate of the observation room and entered. Inside, seated backward in a chair with tattooed arms folded across the top, was one of the three highest profile prisoners in the prison's history. Including Gellert Grindlewald.

Her eyes followed him as he made his way toward the chair positioned across her, a low table between them. She wore bright orange trousers that were several sizes too big for her, black boots and a cropped shirt whose sleeves she had torn off. All of the uniform was faded in places with at least one patch visible on her pants.

Violet eyes studied him with amusement and expectation, as they always did. He knew her, perhaps, better than any other wizard. Not including one other prisoner and Dumbledor of course. But no one knew the history behind that story. Only the headlines.

This petit girl, with runic tattoos cuffed around her wrists and twirling up her arms, this girl with wide innocent eyes. This girl was one of the most dangerous people on the planet.

"Salutations Callahan. Pleasure to see you again." She said, her voice soft as always. It drawled and lowered and staccatoed in an unnerving rhythm. It gave you the feeling, no matter what you thought to say to her, she predicted it and had the conversation all thought out.

Callahan could never tell if she was smiling or smirking when she spoke to him. The lower half of her face was covered in a mask as she was easily sickened by outside pathogens without a special potion to keep her well. A potion the prison did not offer in an effort hinder her escape, should she ever attempt one.

Which brought him to why he was here. For the last four days no one had been able to find her. The guard on duty found her cell empty. It caused an immediate panic of course, which subsided only a small bit after they found she had not released any of the other prisoners.

They found her earlier this morning. Or she found them.

_"Hello, what's a girl gotta do to get some food around here? I can't be that hard to find me, I mean this is, uh, like the best prison there is right? Are you people even looking?" she had called out, mocking everyone_.

And here they were now for their weekly session. Only today was special. She was getting her monthly visitor today.

"Hello Miss Soboles. Always nice to see you."

She nodded and rested her chin on her arms.

"Ask."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon."

"Don't, they never do." she quipped.

He fought a smile.

"Ask what Miss Soboles?" he corrected.

"You know what. You always think about asking and then you never do. So, ask. I don't mind. You can, uh, talk to me Callahan, I am a very good listener."

He lost the battle and smiled in spite of himself.

He knew, in his mind, that he should keep his guard up. He knew she was cunning, he knew she was manipulative. But he, perhaps naïvely, believed they had built something of a rapport with one another. And, dammit all, he liked the kid. So he did ask.

"Everyone says you negotiated your life imprisonment to taunt Dumbledore with it. So you could look him in the eyes and mock his failures. While I do know that you really enjoy causing people...distress.."

He heard a faint laugh.

"I also know you aren't petty. They come here once a month to gawk at you and see if you can be restored to humanity as they say. That only means they'd ship you off to Azkaban. That they are slightly less terrified of you. I know they think they are being fair with you but-"

"Wanna whine about _fairness_? He spent a few months in a hospital, while I rotted for years here in prison. If I wanted to kill him I would have slit his throat. I showed mercy and now I am paying for it. If we switched places there would have been some freaking applause."

"I agree."

"_Do you?"_

"Yes, which is why.."

"Why you want me to keep acting like the last thing they need is for somebody to let me out of here for even a minute? You will get no, uh, arguments from me on that point. See, this is why I like you Callahan. You're not like them. You're not like me either, God no, but you don't pretend to be them either. Takes balls to do that. Then of course, there's dearest Albus, who is living his life behind a mask quite happily." She shrugged elegantly then leaned forward and whispered. "To each their own, yeah?"

The door opened behind him.

"What a nice surprise, you know I was_ just_ talking shit about you. So nice of you to pick right now to drop in. So, tell me, am I fit to be reintroduced into society?"

Callahan did not need to turn around to know he would see Dumbledor and various aurors behind him.

Dumbledor came into his line of sight and conjured one of those Merlin-awful arm chairs he fancied. Callahan resisted the urge to sigh. He enjoyed his conversations with her and was displeased at Dumbledors presumption to interrupt one. It wouldnt have killed the old man to wait his turn.

Callahan turned and offered a smile and nod of the head. "Dumbledor."

"Mister Callahan, it seems we meet again." the blue eyed leader of the light chuckled at his own joke.

Callahan clenched his teeth and forced a laugh.

It wasn't like they had met like this for the last two years. Oh wait.

Soboles cleared her throat. "I see you haven't kicked the bucket yet old man. Pity."

Dumbledor smiled genially. "I am afraid I have not found the time to do that yet Miss Soboles. Though, if memory serves, you are older than I."

Soboles gave a dramatic sigh and pretended to stretch a kink in her back.

"There is that yes." she agreed.

"I find it interesting you brought up my death. If you cared for it that much you should have been more persistent in your attempts to end it yourself. Perhaps you would even be free outside these walls now. Alas, the past is written."

Callahan tensed. Soboles hated it when Dumbledor belittled her. But Soboles only nodded along amicably. Callahan, who knew her well enough, was not at all relaxed by this.

"Wanna know a secret? People like me aren't trying that hard to kill people like you. Sure, we get close sometimes and, uh, we get mad when you get away, but its all for show really. I mean, what would we _do_ without you? We_ need _you. Without people like you, people like me get bored." Stopped and glanced up at them. "You think I'm bad normally? Imagine what I would do to, uh, keep myself entertained?"

"Perhaps attend a party? Or steal valuable restricted items?" Dumbledor suggested.

Callahan raised an eyebrow. _What in Merlin's name was he going on about?_

"You think that's what all the convicts do huh? You know, after they break out of one of the highest security prisons in the world they make time for a party, jack some stuff, do God knows what with it and then- and this part is interesting and then they come back. Because, really, where else is there to go?" Soboles rolled her eyes.

"Even if it wasn't you, it was someone who knows you." Dumbledor stated with that arrogant self confidence the man always exuded.

_"Reeeeally _now?" she drawled, eyes flicking toward Callahan, suddenly sounding more interested in the conversation.

Callahan sat up straighter.

"I am sure of it, Am."

"Ah, on to nick names are we? Like when we used to be friends? How uncharacteristically informal of you Albie."

A bit of darkness flickered in those blue eyes before it was gone the twinkle returned. "I hated that."

"I knew." Soboles said, solemnly.

"Let's get back on track. She knows you. I know it. She knew what buttons to push, things only you or _he_ would know."

"But?"

"There were things off about her. She was more social than you. She kept her guard up, while you, you invite everybody in. Much to their displeasure afterward."

"You would know."

"I would."

Soboles dropped her arms and put them behind her head, eyes glittering.

Callahan sighed inwardly. _Here we go._

"So, how's the fam Albie? Brother doing well? That whole bat thing of his? How about Ari, I knew she wanted to be painter when she grew up. I thought it was stupid of course but she insisted and it really would be a fantastic waste of wealth so how could I not be supportive? Last time I saw-"

Dumbledor lunged forward. The safety wards rippled through the air and slammed the older wizard across the room into the wall.

Soboles laughed.

Callahan turned from Dumbledor and stared at her. He had never heard her laugh before. It was throaty, wild and dangerous. Callahan swallowed.

"Oh that's right, she's, uh, dead huh? Killed her. All gone. You guys really should have paid more attention. Curses flying every which way." she tsked. "Iressponsible, that's what it was."

Dumbledor glared as her as he stood and brushed his robes off. Then his mask, as Soboles called it, reappeared and he seemed kindly once more.

"Go back to your plotting and your planning Albus. I'll see you next month. Oh and do try to work on that temper...it might get you killed. One of these days."

* * *

**XXXXXXX**

* * *

"Why not take me?"

Lucius eyed Lady suspiciously. "You would do something illegal."

"You're hardly one to talk."

"Somebody else would be a better choice. I can't trust you."

"Somebody is a pessimist."

"Somebody covered up a murder the last time I took her anywhere." Lucius reminded her.

"You're never going to let that go..."

"I believe that's for the best." he said dryly.

"Besides, it isn't as though I was walking around waving a gun around or anything."

"You didn't tell me it was a weapon!"

"I also didn't tell you to shoot it off without looking where you were pointing. It could have been me bleeding on the ground. It was close."

He growled. "I already apologized for that."

"No you didn't. You had a mental break down while I cleaned up your mess and then you stomped around after me and spent the next half a hour pouting."

"Malfoys do not pout."

"Lies."

He crossed his arms petulantly. "I resent that."

"I'm sure you do." Lady reached up and patted the top of his head condescendingly. A feat really as he was much taller than the small socialite.

Eventually, he gave in.

"Alright, I suppose if you, control yourself you may...accompany me."

Lady grinned wickedly.

* * *

**XXXXXX**

* * *

POP.

Lucius was very aware of Lady's body pressed against him. She moved away and began to peer around the entrance hall. He took in a deep breath and relaxed.

He sill was not entirely sure how she had roped him into bringing her along. He had a meeting in a few minutes with some, associates as Lady would put it and he needed someone to listen in for him. Not that he didn't trust his friends but well, he didn't.

Lady, who was looking quite pleased with herself, waited for him patiently.

"I have a bad feeling about this." he informed her, eyeing her suspiciously.

She patted his cheek. "Ignore it, it'll go away."

Later that night in his study he would stare at the spot on his desk a valuable object once rested. Shaking his head Lucius poured a drink, downed it and then smiled to himself. He really should have known.

* * *

**XXXXXXX**

* * *

Hadrian stared around his room. Last he, Lady and Eridanous had finally returned to Viridian. He couldn't believe how much he missed it, He was only gone three days! It was riddiculous to be so attached. Especially now that he knew he couldn't stay. The proof, crinkled in a ball and occupying a spot on his floor, was in an unexpected letter.

From everything he knew about Lady it was painfully obvious she couldn't have the entire wizarding world poking their noses in to her business, which was sure to happen if he stayed. Eridanous had found him staring at the letter in shock this morning. He left the room then returned with a pile of books he dropped into Hadrian's lap. After an hour of questions he knew. He knew who he was, what he was and what his parents were.

Lady couldn't afford to keep him around and keep up her life style. He wasn't stupid. Lady was a criminal involved with other criminals. Keeping him around was a risk. Hadrian quickly fell silence. Eridanous left.

He knew it was all too good be true. Lady was...affection toward him. Or at least she didn't try to shoot him after he hugged her which as affectionate as she got. She was his family. Not by blood maybe, but she was the one person always there for him. How could he give that up? Maybe Hadrian would just ignore the letter.

Lady and Eridanous decided to enter his room. He stiffened, watching them. Lady headed to his wardrobe and Eri simply leaned against the wall.

"Well?"

Lady kept going through his clothes. "Well what?"

"What about the Dursleys?"

She stopped and turned to him.

"What about them?"

"Aren't you going to send me to them?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Why on earth would I send you back? I intend to keep you if that is to your satisfaction-"

Hadrian didn't know what was happening, his body was moving, colliding with Lady. He wrapped his arms around, and didn't see her mouthing 'help me' at Eridanous who pretended he didn't see.

Fingers hesitantly threaded through his hair.

"You are such a small thing."

"Perhaps you should keep him as a pet then?" Hadrian heard Eridanous suggested.

Lady pulled him back a bit and looked at him. "What are you doing?"

His cheeks reddened. "I was purring."

"Indeed?" She sounded amused so Hadrian relaxed.

"I thought you might want to start a collection."

Eridanous made a sound of indignation from somewhere behind Hadrian.

"I have far more cats than anyone would ever need."

"More than Eri?"

"Yes."

"I should like to meet them."

"And what is wrong with me?" Eridanous demanded.

Hadrian turned and gave a hug to Eridanous hoping to sooth him. He was laughing on the inside.

Lady looked pensive. "You know, I was intending on stopping to meet with Eden. I believe she could be helpful."

"Gods, _anything but that!_" Eridanous moaned.

Lady ignored him, pulled Hadrian to the side and sat them both on his bed. She pulled out a small wrapped package.

"Early present. Go on."

Hadrian tore it open at once, studiously ignoring Eridanous' looks of disapproval.

Inside lay a leather-bound book filled with blank pages. Initials were engraved on the cover.

"A diary?"

"I thought you might find it good company." Lady said, looking innocent.

Hadrian set it down beside him carefully.

"It isn't cursed or anything is it?" He asked, eyes flickering between Lady and Eridanous suspiciously.

Lady brought a hand to her chest, "You don't trust me?" She flung herself to the floor and wailed dramatically.

"Stop that. Stop it. You're older than me for God's sake Lady. Oh for the love of.." He couldn't continue. He cracked up.

Lady looked up at him and smiled winingly.

Hadrian took a deep breath and picked up the book.

"Well, I suppose you like me well enough not to off me just yet."

"There is that, yes."

* * *

_**AN:** Hello , Hello so pleasant to see you all again. The next chapter will be coming a little quicker than normal as most of it is already finished._

_Once again I don't have a beta so forgive my mistakes, I try to edit it well enough myself and apologize for any mistakes._

_-PSEUDONYMOUS_


	10. Chapter 9

**AN**: Hey everyone here's the next chap for ya. I ended up splitting it into two separate chaps, so here's the first half and soon comes the next half. I am going to stop giving definite times for posting, though, because every time I do so fate mocks me for predicting the future.

**SIDE NOTE:** For those of you who have this on alert I'd like to inform you that I have gone through and edited the previous chapters, adding and removing some information. You can continue without it but you may want to give yourself a refresher.

I do not have a Beta so mistakes will happen. I do go back through and edit chaps so they will get fixed eventually. Sorry!

-Pseudonymous

* * *

_With a thousand lies_  
_And a good disguise_  
_Hit 'em right between the eyes_  
_Hit 'em right between the eyes_  
_When you walk away_  
_Nothing more to say_  
_See the lightning in your eyes_  
_See 'em running for their lives_

* * *

Hadrian walked at Lady's side, back straight and head held high. They were off to diagon alley this morning to pay a visit to Gringotts. Hadrian was appearing as Soboles for the trip and not Hadrian Potter as it would attract...well not less attention but the sort of attention he was used to dealing with. He wasn't ready to be Harry Potter. Not yet.

"Prince stay close." Advised Lady, tightening her grip on his hand.

The crowds were high even in the mornings now. Hogwarts would be starting soon and everyone was starting to come in to refill supplies, get forgotten supplies or even just to socialize and gossip over the first years. Who would place in which house? Which matches might be made? None of it interested Lady in the least. Hadrian had stopped listening two minutes into her explanation. Such things would never matter much to him.

He paused and thought for a minute, ignoring Lady's irritation at their lack of progress.

No he was appearing as 'Prince' he scoffed. The nickname had stuck more than he would have imagined and even Lady had taken to referring to his Soboles personality as Prince. She thought it was fitting that her cousin be a Prince since she was a Lady. Hadrian didn't think it was fair to be saddled with such a snobby nickname.

Lady didn't care.

Neither did Eridanous. Or anyone else. His fate was sealed.

A tug at his arm brought his eyes to the left. Lady motioned forward. Oh, they were here. The building was large, marble and both elegant and intimidating. Small crafty creatures with observing eyes watched the visitors enter and exit the building.

Inside it was cool and busy. Groups of people huddles together and gossiped at intervals along the hallways and several lines formed at the clerk windows at the far sides of the main hall.

Lady had him in a small room to the end of the large main hall and asked him to remain there, or it might have been an order, she had someone to speak to before they continued. Apparently it would be a while before the specific goblins they were meant to meet with would be available. Hadrian watched her walk out into the main hall and gather in a collection of Lords he remembered from the party. One, with long white-blond hair, looked very pleased to see Lady.

Hadrian smirked. He knew why that was.

They spoke for several minutes, Lady was introduced to the third member of the group, Rodolphus he thought he heard, and he saw some of them laughing at something or other and then, abruptly, Lady turned and walked to another group. She looked very displeased. Hadrian glanced around, saw no one paying him any attention and quickly walked closer to the door and peeked out. He intended to see what happened next.

* * *

Lady held up a hand to pause the conversation and cocked her head to the side. Her lips curved down in disapproval and with out a word she turned on her heel and walked, with purpose, to a gathering nearby.

Lucius and Nott glanced at each other and then at Rodolphus. Silently they agreed to follow. Arriving at the new group shortly after Lady with enough time to notice Dumbledore appeared to be holding court with several light side pawns, the quickly positioned themselves around the group and prepared to watch the show.

Lady had not liked whatever it was they had been talking about. She pushed a ministry worker aside, gently, and inserted herself into the conversation.

"Yes, good for you. Congratulations. You helped create a world where some of us would rather die than be who we truly are. Where we're terrified to let our opinions show. To speak for ourselves. To make our own choices. It's all about what our parents would think, what various authority figures would think or what the world would think. All that matters is that we smile and nod and act the parts we are given. No one cares if the smile is true, if you're happy. If the role suits you. Because, in the end, it doesn't matter. As long as it seems that way." She clapped slow and hard. "Yes Albus, well done."

"You speak of what-"

"Silence."

The entire room quieted and stared and shuffled uneasily. Lady never raised her voice. It was some unwritten rule that everyone knew. No matter what happened she was always calm and soft-spoken. The ones who had been further away craned their neck to see what was going on. What imbecile would rile her so? Others. those not privy to pureblood politics and parties and hierarchy, were wondering who in Merlin's name was the impertinent brat who dared speak so disrespectfully to the leader of the light.

"Do not speak to me of what I 'do not know' Albus Dumbledore, son of Adam and blessed of the magicks. I was there. Or have you forgotten? In all your plotting and scheming and rewriting of history, have you forgotten there are those of us who remember? You cannot keep all of us behind prison walls or drowning in our misery. I was there. Oh you can lie to your convenient friends, you can lie to your allies and your enemies, you can lie to the world. Hell you can lie to yourself. You can not, however, lie to me. I know. I've seen."

The collection of light groupies looked utterly outraged. They turned and Lady was swallowed into the group. Lucius stepped in smoothly to stand beside her, offering his support in the argument. Nott and Rodolphus had the same idea it would seem for they occupied places at her other side. Those 'in the know' were watching and absorbing. To the average citizen this was merely a slight verbal dispute. There were those who knew better. This moment, now, would have political ramifications. You could practically taste it. And Lady and Dumbledore of all people were at the center of it.

"Does your father know what you are about?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"If he doesn't I don't see that you are in any position to reveal it to him."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Always."

Dumbledore smiled genially.

"No one can be certain of everything. Not even you."

"You once disagreed."

He inclined his head, smile still firmly in place though his customary twinkle was severely dimmed in Lady's company. "I have found your reliability suspect."

"Then we are even, for I find your intentions suspect."

Several gasped. Lucius' eyes widened. There was a story here. A history between these two. It would be his mission to find it out as soon as possible. For now, however, he had chosen his place, publically no less, and it was (favorably, unintentionally and wonderfully) to Lady's right. Setting himself as an advisor and ally to Lady Arcana Deorum, up and coming pureblood socialite with political aspirations. Perfect.

Lucius offered the group a cold smile.

"My dear Lady, it seems you have hidden a rivalry from me."

She turned her head in his direction slightly, eyes behind darkened glasses locked on Dumbledore, and allowed him a small smile. Lucius grinned inwardly. That was a public display of favor.

She leaned in closer to him as though revealing a secret although she spoke loud enough for those around them to hear her clearly. She obviously meant to have this on the front page of the Prophet tomorrow and intended to have her words, at least, written down correctly.

"Our greatest point of contention is his inability to see past the stains on my hands. You see, Albus here, tends to forget that drawing attention to the crimson on my palms does nothing to fade the color on his own."

Dumbledore laughed pleasantly. "i am not the one wearing gloves."

"No. You're not. I, however, am not the one hiding."

His smile seemed strained.

"You look like you have done well in recent years. How is life outside tall, barren walls suiting you?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. Dumbledore was obviously referencing Lady's time spent in prison to lower her credibility in the eyes of the various patrons of Gringotts listening in and in the minds of readers tomorrow. He could see reporters in the corner. No doubts about that now.

"I've done well enough."

"Now Lady don't be modest. Those tunics you are so fond of come from your own private stock of acromantula silk do they not? And inlaid with enchantments aren't they? All quite costly."

"Well when you put it that way I should think she has done very well for herself indeed. The right clothes, the right associates," Nott caught his eye, "a lovely estate. A very fine life."

A ministry worker eyed the lot of them with distaste. "And what right do you have to live such a life of comfort when others have so little? To live in your fine house and walk with your head high and body posture set in superior lines? You were once nothing and no one if I remember correctly."

Lucius intervened again. "We reap what we sow, do we not? Do not hate us for the lack of love you feel toward your own life. You fought for it. Enjoy it."

The worker, Flanders was it?, glared at Lucius.

"You speak of fighting for what we have earned. What of this life did you earn? You, sons and daughters of traitors, murders and thieves?"

Lady turned her gaze on the man speaking and a step forward. "It is as you said, our fathers earned us the right to this life, sir."

"With what did they pay for it?"

"The same as yours. They paid with their blood. Or is our blood not as valuable as yours?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation. Lucius doubted he ever had it.

"All life is valuable. Let's not discuss such unpleasant things. It is much too early in the morning to speak of past associations and rebellions."

"I hold it that a little rebellion now and then is a good thing, and as necessary in the political world as storms in the physical."

Lucius tried not to grin. Really, he did. Where was all this coming from? It seemed to him both Lady and Dumbledore had been dying to say such things to one another for a long time.

"There are a great many people who would disagree with you. Can you not hear them? Whispering in the corners. They dislike such talk, you know. They dislike a number of things."

He snorted. Albus Dumbledore might be a decent politician but needed to work on his subtly. He was losing his edge.

Eyes turned toward him so Lucius spoke his mind.

"They may complain and insult us behind our backs and just out of earshot, but for all their indignation when the time comes to say something we are always met with overwhelming silence. And, I believe, they are content with their silence."

"Amusing. I have found it often times the opposite. Some of us will, oh, say, bring up the past and suddenly there are many who hush their opinions and quiet their belittling remarks. This, I suppose, it what happens when one lowers one's self to answering their problems with violence."

Lady raised her hands to signal them to lower their voices. Lucius hadn't even noticed. How low-class.

"Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable."

"Violence is never necessary. A proper revolution can be carried out with words."

"Yes, like Crucio." Nott muttered.

"A revolution, Albus, is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery; it cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous. A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another."

Blue eyes hardened. "You are vocal these days, if I were in your...position...I'd keep to the silence. Is that not what are best at? Remaining silent and tight-lipped? I prefer you that way."

Before Rodolphus could finish whatever curse he had at the tip of his tongue, and Lucius confessed he had one ready as well, who openly disrespected a Lady in such a way? It was a grievous insult, but no, Lady once again took over. Speaking a cold, low voice, far more serious than anyone was used to seeing her.

"Carefull Albus, silence is a fragile thing. All it takes is one person and it's broken entirely. I'd not put my faith in its continuation. Also, if I may speak more...plainly than I would normally choose to for my time here is drawing to a close, for now, I'd like to say one thing more. To all of you. And you may do with this warning as you will and think of it as you like."

Nott, Rodolphus and Lucius immediately voiced their agreement. The rest soon followed.

"Listen, companions, and take these words to heart. The greatest of silences always comes just before the storm. The rain will fall my friends. The thunder will sound. Regardless of your wealth, regardless of your status, regardless of your past affiliations. So, the question is, not whether it is right to do these things which come with revolutions and battles. The taking life from another, the lying or stealing or manipulation or betraying of trust. No, the question- is whether you are prepared to make the choice."

* * *

Hadrian scrambled back to his chair and tried to look bored. If Lady suspected something she didn't say. She entered the room and sat beside him, perfectly calm and unaffected by the mess of excitement she'd created just outside the door. He shook his head.

Not long after they were led down a serious of wide halls and into an overly ornate room spotted with deadly weapons. Charming. It appeared there was more to his placement at the Durselys than suspected. What the hell are Blood Wards?

He glanced at Lady and she gave him an encouraging smile but he knew the truth. Their situation had just gotten much more complicated.

She cleared his throat. Nimbleslythe, the goblin speaking, stopped midspeech and all eyes turned to Lady.

"All this is very enlightening gentleman, however, I have a far more controversial bit of business for the lot of us to discuss." She reached into her coat and brought out a letter. "Do we send him off as Potter, last of the Potters and Savior of the Wizarding world or," She tossed it at him, "do we send Prince in his place?"

Hadrian stared at the letter in his hands. It was a Hogwarts letter addressed to Soboles. Feeling daring, a hot sort of excitement flushing his cheeks, he looked up at Lady.

"Why not both?"

She raised a brow and looked to the goblins. Hadrian turned his head in time to catch the wicked grins forming on their intimidating faces.

Oh boy.

* * *

Hadrian stared, open mouthed at Lady.

"What?"

Five hours ago, which to him was five minutes, Lady had clicked her special time fast-forwarding thingy, as Hadrian had decided the technical term would be, and time had, well fast-forwarded. He had watched the world and the people in it move faster than he could register and while he couldn't remember actually going through the last few hours he did remember the information he'd received. For instance he knew they were going to utilize a special time device to allow him to live each day twice so that he could be both Hadrian and Prince. Well, Hell, now he was calling himself by it. Ugh. He would use his Soboles glamours when 'playing Prince' and a slightly more refined version of his normal looks for when he 'played Potter'. This would, essentially, allow him to interact with himself. How bizarre. But it sounded fun. That decided, and far too much wizarding politics and customs shoved down his throat, they were off to get his supplies. As Prince of course. Everyone had decided it was for the best to let his 'Potter' persona have its debut at Hogwarts.

"Why don't you ever use that ...er... thing for something important? Instead of just when you're impatient?"

"Because," she said ,"then it would cease to be a superfluous trinket and I'd have to be more responsible." She shuddered and walked past him.

He stared at the wall, then grinned. "So you admit it! You have a time remote-thingy!"

Hadrian turned around and- she was gone.

"Figures."

* * *

They spent the next two weeks at Malfoy Manor courtesy of Lord Malfoy whom Hadrian was pretty sure was crushing on his cousin. And he was married. Excellant blackmail material. Hadrian had, in fact, used this information to get away with many things during their stay. Such as jumping from book case to book case because the ground below was lava, obviously. Or pranking the house elves.

Life was good.

He spent a good amount of time spying on Lady and the other Lords and Ladies that were invited to visit for the summer. He knew most of them by name now though he hadn't actually met any of them. Parkinson, a judgmental and gossipy witch. Nott, an older wizard with a fun sense of humor. The Lestrange twins, one of which was named Rodolphus. Or Rudolphous. Or Rudolfe...or something. There were more but these were the ones Lady interacted with the most. Them and Malfoy of course. Hadrian watch his cousin tease him and embarasse him mercilessly. To his amazement not only did the blonde Lord come back for more, he also appeared to enjoy it. If the foolish smile he had on his face after stomping away and hiding behind the corner was anything to go by.

Hadrian did his fair share of teasing him as well. He deserved it. When Hadrian wasn't spying or jumping or pranking he was sat in a small study and force fed more information about the wizarding world and politics and practices and etiquette then anyone could ever possibly want to know. Lady had requested Malfoy's help with his training prior to Hogwarts and the Lord, no doubt eager to please Lady, had agreed readily.

Le sigh.

That led back to blackmail. Hadrian discovered the blonde man's significant other and heir, Hadrian himself was one twice over as well, were off to France visiting his wife's friends. The wife would be back, though, today.

How convenient.

* * *

Lucius sat in his kitchen at the snack table surrounded by various associates. Conversations fluttered around him and recalled agreeing to a proposition to regroup in the gardens this morning for socializing. But his thoughts were far from these. He was studying the young woman across the table from who was rubbing a soft cloth of her wicked muggle weapons and eating an apple. He was watching her and analyzing their interactions over the last two weeks. Lucius, usiing this information, had come to some actual conclusion about Lady.

The most important being the following.

Lady wasn't the sort of girl to worry about tangles in her hair or the smudge of charcoal on her chin. She didn't have time for that. Lady was the sort of girl up at five in the morning, sun still down, stars still out, running around the lake on far less clothing than one would normally see her wearing. She shows up to the breakfast table, hair damp, cheeks flushed and flashing a smile that says something like 'I did amazing things today and you'll never know what they were.' And, even with one leg tossed over the arm of her chair and purple stains on her fingers from the Gods know what, she still manages to make you feel like you're the one under-dressed, under-prepared, undereducated and entirely out of your depth. In your own kitchen no less.

That's just the sort of girl she was. Lucius supposed it was the difference between someone who acts like that have it all and someone who knows they do.  
Of course, a pretty girl in ripped blue jeans, humming a cheering tune whilst polishing what he now knew to be called a pistol and chewing on an apple was sure to throw most men off of their game.

After all how does one entice someone who doesn't need you- and knows it?

Lady tilted her head up and he could feel the eyes hiding behind her glasses looking at him.

* * *

"If you two could stop undressing each other with your eyes for about five minutes you might notice everyone else has already begun walking toward the gardens."

Lady turned, grinned at Rudo and winked. "I did notice."

His face flushed as did Lucius'.

With a stretch Lady stood, grabbed another apple, this time a red one, took a bite, winked again and headed for the gardens.

A sigh caught his attention. He looked to the left. Lucius stood beside him shaking his head, a wry smile on his face.

"She's going to be the cause of our early decent into our graves. I can feel it."

Rudolphus nodded. "I believe you. Keeps you on your toes, that one."

* * *

Rodolphus looked up at the sound of the library door slamming open. That was unusual in the Malfoy home. He then saw Lucius storming in and flopping on the sofa, head in Lady's lap. He muttered something no one could understand.

He raised an eyebrow at Lady who shook her head, rolled her eyes, mouthed 'drama queen' and proceeded to thread her fingers through Lucius blonde locks. Rodolphus assumed that was as soothing as she was willing to get. She certainly did not seem like the hugging type. Nor did Malfoy, for that matter.

"Bad day?" he ventured.

A face turned toward him. "horrid."

"What happened?"

Lucius' pale face paled further then flushed slightly before he managed to resettle his mask. A uncommon occurrence becoming more common since the introduction of Lady to their group.

"She made me clean."

"Who did?" Lady asked at the same time Nott snickered and Rodolphus asked "What?"

"The kitchen. Narcissa. Took me ages."

Lady snorted. "You have magic, what did you do break a nail waving your wand about?"

"Our kitchen, I'll have you know, the one in which food is prepared not the one in which snacks are stored, is very large. It took at least fifteen minutes. My arm started hurting and I slipped on some sort of unknown liquid. Twice. I had to change my boots."

"What did you do with the other pair?"

"Threw them out."

As he thought.

"You're acting like a child Lucius, honestly."

"It is servant's work Ro. Do I look like someone's servant?"

"Hi my name is Mister Chain and I'd like you to meet my friend Missus Ball."

Rodolphus choked on his tea.

With a glare Lucius sat up halfway and glared at Lady.

"None of that, I don't come to you for your wit."

He plopped back into her lap and her fingers resumed their work.

Rodolphus grinned. "What do you come to her for?"

Lady looked up at him. "For my hands, obviously."

Nott fell to the floor laughing heartily. Lucius' face flushed the reddest any of them had ever seen. He moans and hid his face in her lap, his hair curtaining over it.

"Just kill me won't you? Rather than this life of constant embarrassment? It'd be far more merciful."

"Whoever said I was merciful?"

* * *

"But which houses should I aim for? Everyone says that once you've been placed there are things assumed about who you are and it delegates what is expected from you. How can i let a decision like this be made by a hat? Potter will judged no matter what but Prince is new. I can be myself when I am him. I don't want to lose that. What do I say to the other students?"

Lady studied him.

"It is my belief that a person's value lies not in who they are now, but in who they might become. When I look at people what I judge is their potenial. I look forward five years or ten. I search out the possibilities. I search out the choices this person will have to make. Then I choose my associations accordingly."

He blinked.

"That's perfect."

"Yes." She agreed, smugly.

* * *

"Tempting, but no."

"Please Lady? More people would come if you did. You know it's true." Rodolphos begged.

He and his brother were desperate to convince Lady to join in on their drinking games. It wasn't any fun if you didn't have a large group. They knew if Lady showed up they'd get everyone. Malfoy had gone to bed an hour before. There was no one to set limits.

"I have no interest in-"

"I dare you." Rodolphos declared in a fit of inspiration.

"Excuse me?"

"I. Dare You."

* * *

The day after tomorrow he'd be off to Hogwarts. Hadrian felt rather numb about the whole thing. He had his Prince persona down well, incorporating the manners he was expected to have in his station and fashioning pieces of himself after Lady in order to say his own opinions in ways others couldn't fault him for. Honestly he was looking forward to playing two people. Potter was his sort of mess up persona. He would experiment with that one and so he would know which mistakes not to make with his Prince persona. He'd decided to place Potter in Gryffindor. After a lot of thought he knew it was what would be expected of Hadrian Potter and for now he would allow that to play out. He was interested in what sides of people he would see as Harry versus Soboles.

He frowned.

Then there was Dumbledore. Hadrian remembered the fight he and Lady had gotten into and that alone was enough to ensure his dislike for the man. Then he found olut how much interference the old wizard had had in his life and his parents, not to mention his being the hands which left him at the Dursleys. Lady, of course, tried to convince him not to form opinions on her interactions with him but with his own. He would try, he supposed, but as of this moment he didn't find the man trust worthy or noble or any of the other things he was meant to be.

Hadrian stretched, pulled on his pajamas and lay on his bed. Might as well get some more last minute studying in.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor, stomped through the halls. Somewhere in this infernal maze he called home someone or someones were making a horrid racket. So much so that it had woken him from much needed sleep after a long evening of wine and gossip and politics.

Music and laughter and boos and as flooded the hallway. This door here held the source of his awakening. Lucius reached for the door and froze. He recognized Lady's voice within. Rolling his eyes he opened the door.

"Do it! Do it! Do it!"

He stared. Lady was bouncing up and down with her fist in the air cheering on two, very inebriated Lestranges, inside a circle of other, equally inebriated persons. He noted it was a collection of younger lords and lady's, including several of his associates with him he would be most displeased the following morning.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing in here?"

"Hush up Luc."

Lucius blinked. "What did you call me?"

"Silence I say. You're ruining the show." Lady admonished.

"Show?"

"Yes, the twins are about to suck each other's faces off. "

"No they are no-"

Lady sprung forward and clasped her hand around his mouth.

"Don't ruin this for me Luc." She whispered in his ear, breath hot against his skin.

Dazed he missed it entirely when the brothers did in fact kiss.

Lady released Lucius and half slumped against him, holding on to stay standing.

"Whoo. That's going in a fucking pensieve."

Lucius turned to her incredulous. "Are you drunk!?"

"I...dunno. As I've never actually drank liquor before. Dranken. Drinken? Drunk...Yes, I might be."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lady would never forgive him if he allowed her to make a fool of herself, however much he felt she sincerely deserved it. Additionally, he thought, glancing over the looks several of the men were shooting Lady, it might be for the best to accompany her to her quarters safely. A Lord's duty never finished.

"Alright, I am taking you mack to your rooms. The lot of you clean up this mess and return to your rooms as well. No one better be here when I return."

"Ah, you're not having fun Luc."

"Since when do you call me Luc?" he inquired, slipping an arm around her waist and guiding her out of the room.

"Always. In my head."

He looked at her sideways . They made slow progress through the halls.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I know it would irritate you. Makes me laugh when I picture your reaction to it if I used it at one of your little snob parties. Heh."

"Well, you do seem to enjoy making me embarrassed."

"Yes. You're cute when you're flustered."

He almost slipped, catching his footing quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"You're cute. When you're flustered. You're cheeks flush and you cross your arms and look just like a child."

"I do not!"

"You do. I love it."

Lucius swallowed.

"I see."

"No. You don't. No one does."

"Uh huh."

Seems the last bit of alcohol was kicking in. She was starting not to make sense.

"Don't uh-huh me you arrogant ass. I don't like being humored. You don't get to see it because I don't exactly let many emotions show now do I? Idiotic youngling."

"Youngling?"

"Young human."

He stopped and cocked his head.

"That's right, you're part something else aren't you?"

"I'm entirely something else. But shush."

She put a finger to his lips. "We mustn't let anyone know. Or else they'll find me and I can't have that yet. I wanna get my fun in first."

"Right." He smiled and shook his head.

"I like this."

"What?"

"Your face. When you're relaxed I mean. You look more...you."

"And normally I don't look like me?" He raised an elegant brow.

"No, normally you wear a mask. I prefer the face underneath. He's more interesting."

"...thank you."

"You're welcome. It's the truth you know? I can't speak anything but the truth. No really, it's a curse. It can get inconvenient."

He stopped again.

"You mean to tell me that you can speak nothing but the truth? As if you had taken Veritaserum? All the time? Only honesty?"

"Yes, always. Nothing I can do about it. I am incapable of lying."

"Why?"

"If I lie, it hurts." She shuddered.

He considered this.

"What is your favorite color?"

"Purple."

"Are you really related to Soboles?"

"Yes."

"Have you and Albus Dumbledore had a previous relationship of some kind?"

"Yes we've known each other for ages."

"Are you on the side of the light or the dark?"

"Yes."

Huh, guess he needed to be more specific.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, you need to be more specific."

"Did you just-"

"Yes."

"Without permission? How un-lady-like."

"No it's very 'Lady-Like'. I like to have every advantage I can get."

"Do you often read my mind?"

"No."

"Oh, well good. How old am I?"

"Thirty two."

"How old are you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You're more than seventeen."

"Oh yes." she laughed.

"Are you in love with your cousin? Or the blonde?"

"I am not in love with H-him."

"You sure? You stuttered."

She scowled. "Can. Not. Lie."

"Fine. Almost to your rooms."

"Which are as far from your own as possible I have noticed. Should I be offended?" she pondered, placing a finger on her chin dramatically.

"It is only proper when an eligible young lady stays in the house of a married wizard."

"Yes, but until ten minutes ago you were, supposedly, under the impression that I was sixteen."

Lucius opened his mouth and closed it.

"Naughty Luc. Naughty."

"I don't know what you- I would never. I look at you with the upmost-"

She grinned and ran long fingers through his hair. "Liar, Liar."

He growled. "So what if I am lying? I am an honorable man and will not have you the subject of gossip on my account."

"Sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet all the same."

"You would do well to care more for what others might think in this situation Lady."

"Should I?"

"Don't you?"

"I have always considered other people's opinions of myself none of my business."

"Really? It doesn't bother you?"

"I don't concern myself with people who can't be bothered to learn the truth. In fact, I don't concern myself with most people. Period. Life is much easier living in this way. And, if their opinions were as fascinating as to warrant all this drama, surely they would sing it out for me to hear myself? Who hides symphonies? Let me hear it, let the world hear it, if it's so important you must open your mouth and share it with a neighbor. And, if not, it would do them well to refrain from speaking. No?"

"When you started that speech I was certain of one thing, the topic. Now, at the end of it, I find myself questioning myself."

"I have that effect."

"If you are the one who drank three bottles of Fire Whiskey why am I the one getting a headache?"

"Poor Luc." she crooned. Soft hands reached up and rubbed circles on his temples.

"You need not stress so. I can deal with gossips in my own way. I have a method."

"I am certain you do, however I would rather not encourage gossip." He half spoke half sighed.

It was quite dark in the hallway, only torches on the walls to guide them. He had no idea how the walk to this side of the manor managed to take so much time. Lucius leaned against the wall and yawned. A very low class thing to do in another person's company but as it was Lady and she was drunk he didn't much mind. He doubted she would remember any of this night in the morning.

He looked up to find her with her head bent down, hair fallen forward, cleaning her sun glasses. She folded them and placed them in a pocket. He didn't think he'd ever seen her eyes before. The were unearthly.

Lady leaned up on her toes and ran her fingers through his hair again, slowly.

"Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?"

Another riddle. Always riddles with this one. Lucius knew, of course, she was referring to his masks once again. Considering her total honesty thus far and his own lowered inhibitions due to wine and lack of sleep, he allowed his mouth to run away with him. Just this once.

He swallowed, closed his eyes and leaned in to her touch. "At times. At night. Sometimes I remember."

"I would have liked him, I think. Very much."

Lucius opened his eyes and whispered.

"He would have loved you."

* * *

**AN: Sorry, I know I took ages to update! I am trying to get here as often as I can but sometimes real life refuses to be ignored. I hope ya'll are enjoying my story and I haven't lost you yet. Don't forget to leave a review and let me know if you like what I do. :)**

**-Pseudonymous (and the cat of awesome 'Big Kitty' because names like that are so rugged and manly and not at all dopey and silly. Nope.)**


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